Harry Potter and the Messengers of Sorrow
by Cassy and Kammi
Summary: Hey! Cassy here-it's my sis and I's first fanfic! (so please go easy) It's OUR version of how the fifth book should be. T_T* We think it's more like the books than most other fanfic. We hope you like it, and PLEASE REVIEW! We do also accept flames. Tc
1. Default Chapter Title

Harry Potter and the Messengers of Sorrow  
  
Harry Potter blinked open his eyes, then glanced at his alarm clock which read 4:47 a.m. He sighed and rolled over, burying his face into his pillow. Why had he woken up anyway? He concentrated hard, trying to remember the dream he's been having, but the details of it had somehow leaked out of his ears. He did recall one thing, however. The awful, panicky, numbing feeling that started in his stomach and quickly spread, immobilizing him as fast as if the body-bind curse had been placed upon him. The full body bind was one of the handy spells that he had learned at Hogwarts, school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, his school for the past four years. Harry suddenly cringed, remembering what had happened during his previous year at Hogwarts. Another student was killed at the end of a dangerous tournament Harry himself was forced to take part in by a binding of magical contact. Despite the bad memories, Harry longed to return to Hogwarts. Even though it often housed dangerous monsters, early-white ghosts, and dark wizards, Hogwarts was the only place he could remember that had ever felt like home to Harry. Half afraid to sleep in case he had another terrifying dream, Harry willed his eyes to shut until he fell into a fitful slumber....  
  
It was a clap of thunder that woke Harry in his dormitory at Hogwarts. He was about to go back to sleep when he heard a faint tapping at the window. Tiptoeing as to not wake his fellow fifth years he crept to the windowsill and drew the latch. Beating its wings against the blustery wind was a large black screech owl with an envelope tied tightly around one of its spindly leg. Wondering what message would be so urgent that it was delivered in the middle of the night, he let the owl in, along with a blast of wind and rain. Curious to find out whom it was addressed to, he removed the envelope and smoothed it out. His insides froze when he saw the name: Mr. Harry Potter. With trembling fingers, he ripped it open and started to read:  
  
Dear Mr. Potter,  
It is with great sorrow that we inform you of the deaths of your parents, James and Lily Potter. The Dark Lord tracked them to their home in Godric's Hollow last night and murdered them. All at the Ministry of Magic will mourn the loss of such fine people. Please correspond by owl post for preferences regarding their funeral and burial.   
  
Sincerely, Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic  
  
Harry stared at the piece of paper, his mind reeling and his robes drenched with rain. He let the letter fall from his limp fingers, and watched it float to the floor. He thought he might be sick. Instead, everything went black, and Harry Potter woke up for the second time that night....   
  
Harry lay in his bed at number four, Privet Drive, his bedsheets soaked in his own sweat. He kept repeating to himself, "It's just a dream, it's just a dream. My parents died fourteen years ago and I know that. It was only a dream." Harry heard the low rumble of thunder in the distance. He sat up, and glanced in the mirror, staring at his messy black hair, which was falling over his forehead, hiding his lighting bolt scar, the scar that Lord Voldemort had given him, and at the same instant, Voldemort's powers to vanish, the night his parents really had died. Harry pushed that last thought from his mind, turning sharply to look at his alarm clock. It now read 6:03 a.m. Harry looked out the window, and saw the faint glow of sunrise peeping out over the end of Privet Drive. "Things always look better in the morning," he reasoned with himself. Harry then realized with a jolt that today was his 15th birthday. The pale features in the mirror lit up with a huge grin. Right on cue, he saw Pigwidgeon, an owl belonging to his best friend Ron Weasley, appear in the sky. Following Pig was his own owl, Hedwig, and a large brown barn owl that appeared to be an owl from Hogwarts, and a small gray owl that Harry did not recognize. After letting them in and removing the packages tied to their legs, the school owl flew immediately back out into the now rosy sky with an important sounding hoot. Harry put Hedwig into her cage, and let the excited Pigwidgeon zoom around his room with a sudden boost of energy. He then turned his attention to the packages with an air of gratitude and picked up the closest one. The correspondent was Hermione Granger, his other best friend. The letter read:  
  
Dear Harry,  
Happy Birthday! How have you been? Remember, if your scar hurts again, owl Dumbledore right away. I do hope that your aunt and uncle haven't been too awful this summer. Have you heard from Snuffles lately? Oh, I have the most wonderful news. I got an owl from Hogwarts this morning-I'm a prefect! I am so anxious to start the new term; remember, we take our O.W.L.S. this year. Of course, I've been studying all summer. (Harry gulped. He had forgotten about the O.W.L.S.) If you haven't already heard from Ron, you might want to know that we are meeting in Diagon Alley on August 16th. Will your aunt and uncle drive you there? If not, send Hedwig to Ron or me and we'll assist you. Hope to see you soon!  
Love from, Hermione   
  
Harry smiled as he set down Hermione's letter. Yes, he could get the Dursleys to take him to London, now that they knew that his godfather, a.k.a. Sirius Black, a.k.a. Snuffles, a.k.a. Padfoot, was a (supposedly) convicted murderer. Harry did not tell them that Sirius was innocent on purpose.   
Harry picked up the parcel from Hermione. Inside were two wrapped packages. Harry picked up the smaller package. It was a tiny book, called: Tips and Tricks for the Advanced Quidditch Player.   
"Excellent," Harry murmured, as he flipped through the pages. The book was full of tips on riding, mounting, and caring for your broom. Harry set down the book and reached for the second package. It was oddly shaped. He opened it up. A piece of parchment fell out. Harry read it.   
  
Dear Harry,  
This is an O.W.L. helper. It's really amazing. When you're studying for your O.W.L.s, it will tell you what else you need to study, and it will ask you questions that will be on them. Since I knew Ron wasn't studying either-I know you two too well-he got one, also. Well, enjoy the rest of your summer!  
Love From, Hermione  
  
Harry studied the O.W.L. helper. It was almost all square, with a rounded top. He placed it on his nightstand and picked up one of Pig's packages. The ink the letter was written in was flashing different colors, making it quite entertaining (but a bit difficult) to read.   
  
Harry-  
Happy 15th Birthday! Has your scar been hurting lately? Mum has been out of her mind worrying about you. Guess what? Fred and George have started on a joke shop-no, I'm serious! When we got home for the summer, the showed us a heap of gold they had managed to procure. I guess ol' Ludo Bagman finally came through for them, huh? (Harry smiled, for it had been himself, not Ludo Bagman, that had given the twins the money he had won in the Triwizard Tournament.) They've decided not to open their shop until they graduate, but they have a site reserved near Honeydukes, in Hogsmeade! Dad pulled a few strings at the Ministry to get them that, and they're positively hopping with excitement. Mum nearly fainted when she found out. She still wants them to work at the Ministry, like Dad and Percy, but I think she'll come to her senses soon enough. Can you just imagine Fred and George at the Ministry? Nothing would ever get done! By the way, we're meeting Hermione in the Leaky Cauldron on August 16th at 2 o'clock. If the Muggles give you a hard time about it, owl us and we'll take care of it. I hope Pig gets all of this to you okay. See you soon!  
-Ron  
Harry laughed as he placed Ron's card next to Hermione's on the nightstand. He couldn't wait to visit Fred and George's joke shop when it was completed. He opened Ron's parcel. Inside was a big bag of dungbombs and a crate of fake wands, canary creams, ton-tongue toffees, and other assorted trick sweets. There was a small package that was labeled "Expanders." A note from Fred and George was pinned to it.   
  
Harry, these Expanders are each shaped like a body part. (i.e. ribs, arm, hand, head, and so forth) Whichever one you choose to eat, your matching body part will expand to three times its normal size for thirty seconds. Cool, huh?  
  
Harry stared at the Expanders. He pulled out one shaped like a foot and slowly put it into his mouth. The strangest sensation came over his left foot...it reminded him of the time when Lockhart inadvertently removed all of the bones in his arm in Harry's 2nd year at Hogwarts. He watched, amazed, as his foot grew...and grew...and grew...until it was larger than Hagrid's. Harry utilized the convenience of having a large appendage while it lasted. He tried to walk around the room, but only got as far as his nightstand before falling back onto his bed. He tried to do this quietly, in case the Dursleys came in and threw him out of the house for being even more of a freak than usual. Which wouldn't be too bad, come to think of it, Harry thought to himself as his foot shrank back to its normal size.  
He opened the third letter he had received, and recognized Hagrid's untidy scrawl.  
  
Dear Harry,   
Happy Birthday! How've you been? Hope you like your present, wasn't too sure if you would or not. See you at school.  
Cheers, hAGRID  
  
Harry excitedly tore open the brown paper. Inside a square frame was what looked like a photograph of Harry starting the first task of the Triwizard Tournament. He saw himself entering a circular stadium filled with students, at the center of which was a huge, vicious-looking dragon. Remembering the tense moment, he lightly touched the figure of himself. Suddenly, the image started to move and he could hear Ludo Bagman's magically magnified voice commentating the match over the faint cheers of the crowd. He saw himself, play-by-play, taking the golden egg from the dragon who guarded it. When it finished, he heard the final roar of the crowd and it instantly flicked back to the opening screen. Amazed, he put it in his Hogwarts trunk. His friends were going to want to see that! There were two letters and a package left. He recognized Sirius's handwriting on the front of one. The letter read:  
  
Dear Harry,  
I hope you've had a happy birthday so far. You know that if the Dursleys ever give you any trouble-and I mean any trouble at all-you owl me as fast as you can. I'm currently lying low at an old friend's house-for certain reasons I can't enclose his name, but I think you know who I mean. We've both been extremely worried about you ever since your, er, ordeal at the end of last year. I miss you a lot, and I hope that you will stay safe until you are in the care of Albus Dumbledore once again. Well Harry, I must go, but I hope to see you soon. Keep in touch!   
Sirius  
  
Harry knew exactly whom Sirius was staying with-Remus Lupin. Besides being a werewolf, Lupin was one of Harry's old Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers, and another old friend of his father's. The package from Sirius and Remus was immense. Inside was a broomcase big enough for his Firebolt. There was a note attached. The writing was slightly familiar, but he couldn't quite place it.   
  
Harry,  
Sirius and I know this will come in handy for all of those Quidditch practices! I wish I could visit you, but I'm sure my appearance will cause something of a stir. Don't worry too much about Lord Voldemort yet, but I must remind you to be alert at all times. Good luck for the school year!  
-R.L.  
  
Harry put all of his presents under the loose floorboards in his room. He then saw one last letter. It was from Hogwarts. It reminded him that the new term started on September 1st, and to be at Platform Nine and Three Quarters at 11 o'clock. Also, there was a fifth year supply list. There was even a letter that said Harry was a prefect! Harry grinned as he walked to the kitchen for breakfast. He couldn't wait to see Ron and Hermione at Diagon Alley on August 16th.  
  
  
  
  



	2. Default Chapter Title

Harry Potter and the Messengers of Sorrow-Chapter 2

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By Cassy and Kammi

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Authors' note: We know this is a bit short and apologize profusely. We would also like to stress that any suggestions are welcome! We will have less and less time to write as the school year progresses (Cassy's high school musical is about to start *which involves tedious daily rehearsals*, and Kammi is involved in soccer and cheerleading in her junior high) but if we get a lot of good reviews and people like the stories and all, we will continue! Thanks! Tchao! ^_~

_Disclaimer: We forgot this last time, but we will remember now: The characters in this story belong to J.K. Rowling (genius!) and NOT me or Kammi._

"Muuuuummmm!" wailed Dudley Dursley, waddling through the house as fast as he could, which was for him, a very slow pace indeed. "Mum, Harry said _you know what_!"

It was the best Harry Potter could do to keep from laughing. He had just been watering the flowers outside of Number Four, Privet Drive and had been wondering aloud to himself that his job would be so much easier if he could use magic. To the great amusement of Harry, Dudley had exited out the kitchen door just in time to hear Harry say,

"…. easier if I could use magic to do it." 

Dudley had started screaming shrilly and flopped into the house. Harry chuckled. Dudley had to get his mother to rescue him because he was too stupid and cowardly to come to his own defense. 

"Mum," Dudley was now whining, "Harry said the "M" word." 

"He _what?_" Aunt Petunia shrieked. She ran outside and grabbed Harry by the ear and led him inside. "How _dare_ you say that word in front of Dudley! And outside, too! Any of the neighbors could have heard you. I _forbid _you to mention your abnormality under this roof. Do you hear me?"

"Yes," Harry managed to say, trying his best not to double over in laughter—the look on Aunt Petunia's face was so ridiculous that Harry couldn't help but laugh. 

"You just wait until Vernon gets home, boy! After all we do for you, you just go and threaten us. Now go and clean the floors, and you better do a good job of it." Aunt Petunia finally let go of Harry's ear, handed him a washcloth, and told him to get to work. Harry got down on his hands and knees and started scrubbing. The only reason that he was putting up with this nonsense is that he had made a deal with Uncle Vernon a week ago. If Harry behaved well, and acted like he was "normal," then Uncle Vernon would drive him to The Leaky Cauldron on August 16th to meet Ron and Hermione. Today just happened to be August 16th, and Uncle Vernon was to drive him to the Leaky Cauldron tonight. Harry hoped that the incident with the "M" word wouldn't destroy his chances of getting there tonight. 

    * -- -- -- -- -- 

    * "Boy! Petunia tells me that you said _that word_ in front of Dudley. Why?" Harry stared at Uncle Vernon, confused. It was 5:30, and Uncle Vernon had just arrived home from work. Aunt Petunia had told him what had happened earlier, and then he had rounded on Harry. 

"Er…well…" Harry began, choosing his words carefully, "I was watering the flowers, and I was thinking about how much easier it would be if I could use ma—" 

"That's enough!" interrupted Uncle Vernon. "But I am NOT taking you to the Lowry Copper tonight." 

"Ah, it's Leaky Cauldron." Harry corrected. 

"Same thing," grunted Uncle Vernon. 

"Well, then…" Harry sighed, pretending to be disappointed. "…I'll just go to my room. Maybe I'll even write a letter to Sirius, my godfather, telling him how sad I am that I did not get to go meet my friends." A tinge of fear flashed through Uncle Vernon's eyes. 

"FINE! FINE! I'll take you to that ruddy place. Get your…your stuff and be in the car in five minutes or we're not going!" 

Harry relaxed in the back seat of Uncle Vernon's luxurious company car. He couldn't believe his luck. He had messed up, and he almost had to stay at Privet Drive. Harry stared out of the window as Uncle Vernon pulled up in front of the Leaky Cauldron. Harry hopped out of the car with his trunk and Hedwig's cage. 

"Bye," he said. Uncle Vernon cleared his throat. 

"So," he barked, "you're going to stay at your school for the Christmas and Easter holidays, then?" 

"Yes," Harry answered impatiently. Uncle Vernon asked that every year and Harry always said that he was going to stay at Hogwarts. Harry slammed the car door shut and walked into the tiny pub without looking back. 

"Mr. Potter? Oh, Mr. Potter! Would you like something to drink? How about an icy cold glass of pumpkin juice? Or, or, we have Butterbeer! Your favorite, I've heard. Anything that you want, I will get for y—" Harry turned sharply at the voice behind him. It was the bartender, Tom. 

"Uh, not right now Tom, but thanks. I'm meeting some friends." Harry said, trying to sound regretful. 

"Oh, that's fine, Mr. Potter. Actually, that's perfect." Tom glanced at his watch. "It is 7:00. How about you and your friends come for a drink around 8:30?" Harry shifted his weight uncomfortably. 

"Ah, well, I'm not so sure, I mean…." 

"Oh, Mr. Potter, don't worry about money! Not that you need to, but, anyway, I'll get everything ready. See you soon!" Harry watched, dazed, as Tom scurried off to the back of the bar. He stood there for a couple minutes, then shook his head as he walked toward the wall above the trash can. "Three bricks up… two across…" Harry muttered.

"And there!" Harry nodded to himself as the archway opened, and Diagon Alley came into view. 


	3. Default Chapter Title

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Harry Potter and the Messengers of Sorrow Chapter-3

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Author's Note: Well, everyone. Here it is. Chapter-3. Please R/R. Well, enjoy! 

Disclaimer: All characters belong to the great J.K. Rowling and are in no way ours. Except for Gracie Brown, she belongs to us. Anyway, read please!

Harry turned and watched as the opening to Diagon Alley closed. Then he gazed around at all of the unique shops and smiled. Then, he started circling the area, looking for either Ron or Hermione. He searched for about a half an hour, and did not see either of them, but ran into many of his other Hogwarts friends. He saw Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan in front of Madame Malkin's Robe Shop, and Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil eating giant banana-nut fudge sundaes on the steps to Florean Fortescue's Ice-Cream Parlor. A brown-haired, freckle-faced girl was standing next to Lavender, whining. She looked about ten or eleven years old. 

"Gracie, be quiet. No you cannot have any of my sundae; it's your own fault that you spent all of your money of Chocolate Frogs," Lavender was telling the girl. She pouted. 

"Lavender, you're so mean. I'm going to tell Mum on you…." Harry stifled a laugh as he hurried past the girls. Gracie strongly reminded him of Dudley—at least on one of Dudley's _good_ days. Then finally, after almost an hour of searching, Harry heard and all-too-familiar voice. 

"Oh, thank goodness Harry! You're here!" Harry felt a pair of arms fling around his neck. He turned to see Hermione, who was grinning. "We thought that you couldn't make it, and if you weren't here by tomorrow morning, then Mr. Weasley was going to go get you." 

"Oh," Harry replied, speechless by Hermione's overwhelming greeting. "Where _is _Ron, anyway?" 

"Right here." Harry whirled around and saw a figure whom he assumed was Ron. He couldn't be sure, though, because all he could see was the tip of a freckled nose peeking out between a load of enormous shopping bags. 

"Hello…Ron. Are all those bags yours?" Harry asked tentatively. 

"Of course not," came a voice from somewhere underneath the bags. "They're mine **and **Hermione's. She convinced me to carry her junk while she looked for you. Now I see that there were other reasons. She just **loved** the idea of me being her own personal bellhop, I'm sure." Harry turned to Hermione. She flushed pink. 

"No, that is _not_ the reason. I _did_ want to look around for Harry. Didn't I Harry?" "Uh," Harry looked from Ron to Hermione and cringed. He hated being in the 

middle of their fights. Ron and Hermione were his best friends, but sometimes he wished they'd quit fighting and grow up. "I'm sure Hermione had good intentions," Harry started to say. Ron scowled at him, and Hermione beamed. 

"Thank you, Harry! See, Ron?!" Ron stuck out his tongue. Harry knew he had to do something fast, or things could get nasty.

"Um, Hermione? You carry your own things since you found me, so now Ron, you only have to carry your own stuff." Hermione scoffed, but grabbed six of the eight bags from Ron's arms and led the trio down the path. "Great," thought Harry bleakly. "Now they're both mad at me. That's what you get for playing peacemaker." 

------------------------------

"There is _no room_ left on this train," Ron exclaimed, ducking to avoid a flying wand. He, Harry, and Hermione were on the Hogwarts Express, trying to find an empty compartment. Suddenly a small first year poked her head out of a compartment ahead of them. Harry recognized her as the whiner from Florean Fortescue's. 

"Ooh," she squealed. "Are you looking for a seat? Lavender! Can they sit with us?" 

"Ungh." Ron gurgled. His expression was half-panicky. 

"No…" Lavender started to say, but then she saw Harry peeking out from behind Ron's shoulder. "Uh, I mean, yes!" She turned to Parvati and giggled nervously, but Parvati just glared at Harry. She was probably still mad at Harry from the Yule Ball last year. Harry had gone with her, and basically ignored her throughout the entire ball. But Harry had to admit he would have been mad if he was Parvati. Harry left the seat next to Lavender empty, and took the one next to that. Hermione plopped down next to him and Ron on the other side of Hermione. The girl on the other side of Lavender stared at Harry, wide-eyed. 

"Hi," she whispered. "Are you Harry Potter?" 

"Er, yes." Harry answered, feeling very stupid indeed. 

"Hey Lavender! Isn't that the guy that you have that big crush on? The one that you really, really li-" 

"Shut _up_, Gracie." Lavender cut in ferociously, her face burning. Pretending that he was unaware of what had just happened, Harry turned in his chair and started conversing with Hermione. 

"So what did you do over the holidays?" 

"Well," Hermione answered, "my family and I went to Bulgaria to visit some of our relatives." Ron suddenly cut in. 

"You didn't go see _Vicky_ anytime did you?" Harry looked at Hermione. He had been wondering the exact same thing. Hermione turned beet-red. 

"Well, uh, no…" she sputtered. 

"Why not?" Ron inquired persistently. 

"Myrentswoulntetme," she mumbled. 

"Speak up!" Ron commanded. 

"My parents wouldn't let me go visit Victor!" Hermione yelled. "There Ron, are you happy now?" Ron stared at her. Harry could tell that he was trying hard not to smile. But all that Ron managed to do was say, 

"Why not?" Hermione scowled. 

"They didn't want me to visit a strange eighteen-year-old boy who lived in the mountains, when I was only fourteen." 

"Oh dear," Harry said. Hermione looked so depressed that Harry felt sorry for her. "Well," he started hopefully, "maybe they'll let you visit him next year." Ron glared at Harry, and to Harry's surprise, Hermione did, too. 

"I can't," Hermione said ruefully. "Victor and I broke up. He didn't want to maintain a long-distance relationship if we couldn't even visit each other. So, we're just friends now." Ron hid a smile at these words. Harry patted Hermione on the arm. 

"Well, it's all for the best." Hermione sighed. 

"Yeah, I guess so." Harry heard a giggle behind him, and turned to see Lavender, Parvarti, and the whining girl, all staring at them, wide-eyed. Hermione took one glance at them and regained her composure, straightening up in her seat. 

"Ahem," she said cooly, and Harry could tell that she was trying to sound important. "Since I'm a prefect now, I have certain obligations that I must tend to. I must speak to the other prefects at this moment. I'll be back in a minute." 

"Amazing," a voice said. The girl, Gracie, was gaping with awe at Hermione. "You're a _prefect_?" she squealed. Hermione smiled proudly. 

"Yes, I am." 

"Oh, this is amazing! I'm meeting a prefect! Oh! Lavender, you're jealous, aren't you? Jealous because you're not a prefect? And she is! What's your name?" Gracie just couldn't contain her excitement. 

"Uh, Hermione. Hermione Granger." Hermione said, looking apprehensively at the overexcited girl. 

"OH MY!" Gracie cried shrilly. "Hermione _Granger? _The _Hermione Granger?_ The top-of-every-class-Hermione Granger? You're a prefect! Hermione, you are my favorite person in the whole world, besides my mum, of course, but I can't believe I'm meeting you at last!" Gracie flung her arms around Hermione's waist. Hermione was obviously overwhelmed, but Harry could tell that she was pleased, too. Lavender, on the other hand, was positively fuming. 

"I am NOT jealous! I didn't WANT to be a prefect! And Gracie, come here right now! 

"No," Gracie grinned mischievously. "I want to stay with Hermione." 

"Grace Amanda Brown, don't you dare say another word, or I'll…I'll…I'll rip you tongue out!" The look of pure happiness on Gracie's face suddenly turned to fear. 

"No, no! Don't Lavender, please, no! I like my tongue where it is now. I can't talk without my tongue." 

"Well, Gracie." Lavender said reproachfully. "That's why I said that I would rip it out! So you couldn't talk!" Gracie suddenly smiled again. 

"You'll have to catch me first!" She then bolted past Hermione out the compartment door. Lavender rushed out after her, and Parvarti trailed behind, muttering under her breath. Harry caught the words 'immature brat.' Harry wondered if it was Lavender or Gracie that she was talking about, but he had a pretty good idea. 

As soon as Parvarti had shut the compartment door, Hermione continued talking as though nothing had happened, and that the shrieks, yells, and thundering of feet were not at all happening outside their compartment. "Well, I better go." She walked to the door. 

"Wait, Hermione! I'm a prefect, too." Harry said. 

"Really?" Hermione asked. "You are? That's great, Harry!" 

Before Harry could reply, he heard an unintelligible grunt from the compartment. He turned to see Ron's horror-stricken face. 

"You two are prefects?" he whispered hoarsely. 

  
  
  
  



	4. Default Chapter Title

and the Messengers of Sorrow Ch-4

by: Cassy and Kammi

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Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns everything except Cho's friends, Cassy, and Kammi.

"Uh, yes. We're prefects," Harry answered nervously, looking anxiously at Ron's pale, shaking face. 

"I'm not." Ron said slowly. Hermione said nothing; she just stared at Ron. "I'll be right back," Ron muttered. He got up and practically ran out of the compartment. Hermione and Harry looked at each other. Neither of them could think of what to say. 

It was Hermione who finally broke the silence. "We'd better go to the prefects' cabin now, or we'll be late," she said hollowly. Harry nodded and they, too, exited the now vacant compartment. As they passed through the corridor, Harry caught glimpses of anxious first-years and jesting, jovial older children. Hermione finally stopped in front of a large room near the front of the train. It had a brass nameplate on the door that read "Prefects." Hermione took out her wand and said, "Arithmancy," as she tapped the handle. The door magically opened. "The prefect password," she explained after Harry gave her a blank stare. They walked inside the spacious compartment and a pretty girl with dark brown hair ran to meet them. Harry recognized her at once and blushed; she was Cho Chang, an extremely pretty and popular sixth year, who was the Ravenclaw Quidditch Seeker. Last year Harry had asked her to the Yule Ball, but she was already going with someone else. 

"Hi Harry!" she intoned cheerfully. 

"Er, hi, Cho," Harry replied nervously. Cho turned to Hermione, and her smile suddenly seemed painted on. 

"_Hello,_ Hermione," she gushed with an overly bright voice.

"Hello, Cho," Hermione answered coldly, and swept past her briskly. Cho turned back to Harry, her face shining again. 

"So, Harry…you're a prefect, too! That's great!" 

"Thanks, Cho," he said faintly. He gazed into her big, sparkling brown eyes. She was _so _pretty. "You're great too. I mean…. You're wonderful…. It's wonderful…. Er, I meant that, uh…." _Stop! Shut up, Potter, while you're ahead _said a voice in Harry's head. Harry just smiled at Cho. She looked flattered; either by the smile or if she had understood Harry's ramblings. 

"Uh, well," Cho said, and Harry could tell that she was trying to make conversation. "My friend didn't make prefect last year. She was so bummed." 

"Yeah," Harry murmured, thinking of Ron. "Yeah, I bet so." Someone nudged Harry in his back. He jolted out of his trance. "Oh, hi, Hermione," he said. 

"I got the answer to my question, Harry, so I'll go back to our compartment now. Want to come along? Or," she said, looking warily at Cho. "Do you want to stay and, er, _chat_?" 

"I'll, uh, stay," Harry muttered, without looking Hermione in the eyes. She scowled at Cho, then bolted out of the compartment. 

"Want something to drink, Harry?" Cho asked. 

"Sure," Harry replied. Cho led him to the back of the compartment. A huge table piled with food hid the back wall. Cho handed Harry a glass of pumpkin juice and a cauldron cake. Harry, who was famished, consumed them quickly. 

"Harry," Cho started. "Do you want to meet my friends?" 

"Oh, all right," Harry agreed reluctantly. Meeting Cho's friends was the very last thing that he wanted to do, but it was better then standing around looking like an idiot. Cho led him over to a corner. Harry recognized many of the people standing there talking as the people who were always surrounding Cho wherever she went. 

"Everyone, everyone, listen!" Cho called. The talking immediately stopped. "Harry," Cho said proudly, "meet Angela Hankerson, Emily Grouser, David Branthson, Victoria Nott, Joanna McDonald, Jonathan Moon, and Frank Rendivichi," Cho pointed to them each in turn as she called out their names. The girl with artificially blond hair called Victoria came up to Harry and shook his hand. 

"Why, if it isn't little Harry Potter. The _famous _Harry Potter. My, isn't _this_ an honor," she sneered, dripping with sarcasm.

"Oh. Th-thanks," Harry muttered. Cho smirked. 

"Harry," Victoria continued. "Have you met my baby sister, Kammi, and her little friend, Cassy? They're 5th year Gryffindors, _just like you_." 

"Ah, yes I have met them." Harry said after searching his memory, and finally stopping on two girls with brown hair who were extremely quiet. He recalled Hermione mentioning some girls who slept in her dormitory who were silent as mice. She always forgot they were there. But thinking about Hermione made him think of Ron. "Um, I have to go, everyone," he announced. All of Cho's friends kind of nodded, like they really couldn't care whether Harry stayed or committed suicide with pineapples and sharpened toothbrushes. Cho looked deeply disappointed. "I'll see you around sometime Cho, okay?" Harry offered. Cho smiled. 

"Okay, Harry. Good-bye." 

"'Bye, Cho," Harry waved, and exited the compartment quietly. 

Harry was walking along the corridors, thinking of Cho, when suddenly…. BAM! He tumbled to the floor. 

"Oh, I am so sorry!" a musical voice said. Harry looked up to see a girl with short reddish-brown hair staring down at him. He recognized her as Cassy Moon, one of the girls that Victoria had mentioned back in the prefects' compartment. 

"Please forgive us, Harry," said a second, louder voice. Harry turned to see another girl with long dark brown hair with a concerned look on her face, who was Kammi Nott. Cassy reached for Harry's hand and pulled him to his feet. 

"Are you sure you're okay?" Kammi asked. 

"Yeah, I'm fine," Harry assured them, and they walked their separate ways down the corridors. Harry reached his compartment, and was about to pull the door when he heard people yelling inside. He knew the voices at once to be Hermione's and Ron's. "Look, Ron!" Harry heard Hermione's voice yell shrilly. "It's not my fault that I'm a prefect; It's not my fault that I'm practically perfect, and that you are stupid and lazy! I even have to beg you to do your homework! And you want me and Harry to tell Professor Dumbledore that we don't want to be prefects just because _you_ don't want to feel left out! That is so selfish! How we ever became friends I'll never know!"

"_I'm_ selfish! Harry's my best friend, and now you are trying to take him away from me!"

"We'll see about _that. _Harry will come back any second, and you can tell _him_ what you want us to do." 

"But," Ron spluttered. 

"I do **not** want to talk to you right now." Hermione retorted. Harry didn't hear anything else, so he quietly opened the compartment door. Hermione and Ron were sitting on opposite sides of the compartment, glaring at each other. 

"Hi, you guys," Harry said into the silence. Both of his friends jumped and looked at him. Hermione spoke first. 

"There he is, Ron. Tell him what you told me earlier." Harry looked at Ron, pretending that he hadn't heard what they were yelling. Ron said nothing; he just stared at his hands. Hermione must've been really angry, because she suddenly started yelling again. "Harry, he said that he wants us to tell Dumbledore that we don't want to be prefects anymore. Can you believe it?" 

"Ron," Harry said softly. "If you don't want to be around us if we are prefects, of course I will tell Dumbledore that I don't want to be one, you know that our friendship means more to me then anything in the world." Ron looked up at Harry with a grateful grin. 

"Th-" he started to say when Hermione cut him off. 

"_WHAT_??!!" Hermione shrieked. "Harry, have you gone mad?" Harry sighed heavily. 

"I know that it may sound crazy, but…" 

"Crazy?!" Ron cried. "Harry's not crazy. He's being a _friend_." 

"If being a friend means that you have to give up a great honor just because your friend is being selfish, then I guess I don't know that much about being a good friend," Hermione shot back. 

"No, I guess you don't!" Ron shouted. There was another silence. 

"Ron, you are a brainless git," Hermione whispered with quiet fury. Harry guessed that this was just too much for Ron, because he turned red with rage. "Hermione, do you know what it's like to have six brothers and sisters? Do you? NO! You and Harry both have no siblings; you have no idea what it's like! What it's like to have so many older brothers that everything that you own once belonged to one of them? To have so many brothers and sisters that your family can barely survive? To have the exact same thing for breakfast three months in a row because you didn't have enough money to have anything to eat except toast? You don't even know the half of it! Harry, you think that you have it rough because you have no parents, and you live with those muggles over the summer holidays? Think again! You have piles and piles of money! Hermione, too! She thinks that she has problems if she doesn't get A pluses on every piece of homework or tests that she does? Those aren't problems! Those are tiny little worries. They won't kill you. They just upset you. And now I am upset. With you! Hermione, at least Harry values my friendship! All you care about is showing off, being the best, becoming Head Girl! I've had enough with both of you!" Ron stormed out of the compartment. Harry and Hermione stared at each other; both of them lost for words. 

"Well, well, well," a cold, calculating voice rang out from the corridor. "I see the _inseparable_ three are in a little quarrel. What a pity." Harry and Hermione turned to see Draco Malfoy standing in the doorway, flanked, as usual, by Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle. "I guess you'll have to tell Dumbledore that you don't want to be a prefect, now, Granger. You don't want to lose your friendship with Weasley now, do you? Stupid of you, really. Who'd want to be friends with a poor slob like him anyway? But what do you expect from a Mudblood?" 

"Put a cork in it, Malfoy," Hermione said calmly. Draco laughed. 

"But Granger, I thought he was a brainless git." 

"Shove it, Malfoy, or you'll be sorry." Hermione ordered. 

"Oh, I'm positively _quivering_ with fear," Malfoy drawled lazily. Hermione walked right up to Draco and punched him in the stomach. He doubled over. 

"Who's the brainless git now, Malfoy?" she said sarcastically, and slammed the compartment door shut in Crabbe's bewildered face. Harry stared at Hermione in amazement. 

"You know, that's the second time that you have hurt him in two years." Hermione shrugged. 

"He deserved it," she muttered. There was a pause. "Harry," Hermione whispered. 

"Yes?" Harry said. 

"Do you think I was too mean to Ron? I mean, am I so worried about my grades that I am mean to my friends?" 

"Of course not, Hermione," Harry said. "Well, you were when we first met you." Hermione scowled. 

"But," Harry continued quickly, "you've changed." 

"Hmm," was all that Hermione said. She seemed to be lost in thought. Harry sat down in a seat and stared out the window, watching the sky grow dark. Hermione sat down across from him and grabbed her copy of The Standard Book of Spells Grade-5 and started reading. Harry didn't mind, but there was one thing that _did_ bother him. Ron didn't come back into the compartment.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

One hour later….

Harry stared out of the compartment window on the Hogwarts Express; Ron's words playing over and over in his head. Harry hated being in fights with Ron. Ron was his best friend. Hermione was still reading The Standard Book of Spells. It had grown dark outside. Ron hadn't come back from wherever he stormed off to after he ran out of the compartment one hour earlier. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Hermione's head jerked up from the pages of the book. 

"Who's there?" she asked quickly. 

"I dunno," Harry replied. Hoping it was Ron, Harry called out, "Come on in." But it wasn't Ron. It was Fred and George. 

"Hello there, Harry old boy!" George greeted him. 

"Hi you guys," Harry answered. "Have you two seen Ron anywhere?" The two twins glanced at each other. 

"Well," Fred began slowly, "he came into our compartment. Close to tears, he was. Rambling on about you two being prefects. He was mad that he wasn't one, but I personally feel sorry for you two. _Prefects._ That is not an enjoyable task." Hermione scowled. 

"Well, young people," George said brightly. "Fred and I have something to show you." He reached into his pockets and pulled out three packages of Canary Creams. "Look. We got two hundred of these things manufactured last week. They're now sitting in what will be our shop next year. Cool, huh?" 

"Yeah," Harry muttered, pretending to be interested in the Creams, but his mind was still on Ron. 

"We also have a lot of—" But Harry didn't hear what Fred and George had a lot of, because the compartment door opened so hard that it slammed against the wall and bounced back again. Malfoy was standing there again, along with Crabbe and Goyle. "Back again so soon, Malfoy? Want another punch in the gut?" Hermione said, her eyes flashing dangerously. Malfoy sneered. 

"That punch was so wimpy, Granger. I bet even Weasley couldn't do any better." He motioned to Fred and George, who were now glaring at Malfoy. "I'll even bet on that. They don't get enough food, so they're as weak as Granger. And she's a mudblood girl!" Draco laughed maliciously. Suddenly, George pounced on top of Malfoy. Crabbe and Goyle made movements as to pull George off him, but Fred held them back. Harry decided to make himself useful; he went over to help Fred. Hermione was no help at all, she just kept shouting that since she was a prefect, we better follow her orders or she would tell Professor McGonagall. Finally, the witch who pushed the food cart heard all of the commotion and came running in. She pulled George and Draco apart, gave them both detentions, and told them that she would tell Dumbledore about their fight. Then, she ushered Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle out of the compartment. Fred, George, Harry, and Hermione just stared at each other silently. Then the twins left without a word. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

Harry and Hermione walked into the splendidly decorated Great Hall without looking at each other. Each of them knew exactly what the other one was thinking. They were both mad at Draco, and frustrated and confused about Ron. They took two empty seats at the Gryffindor table, and Harry watched enviously as Ron chatted with Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan happily at the other end of the table. At the staff table, Dumbledore stood up and smiled at all of the students. 

"Welcome," he said, "to another year at-" 

"Albus! Oh, Albus, it's gone!" Professor McGonagall came running into the Great Hall, frantic. Dumbledore's brow furrowed. 

"My dear professor, _what's_ gone?" 

"The Sorting Hat, Albus," McGonagall said, breathing heavily. "The Sorting 

Hat is missing."   


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Authors' Note: If you have any comments, questions, or suggestions, please put them in your review (by the way, PLEASE OH PLEASE review) or E-mail us at [cassyandkammi@writeme.com][1]

__

We hope you enjoyed it! Thank you! Tchao! ÜT_T*  


  


   [1]: mailto:cassyandkammi@writeme.com



	5. Default Chapter Title

Harry Potter and the Messengers of Sorrow Ch-5  
  
  
Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K. Rowling except for Cassy, Kammi, and Gracie.  
  
One hour after McGonagall reports to Dumbledore that the Sorting Hat is missing...  
  
"Albus, what should we do?" a worried Professor McGonagall inquired to an unusually calm Dumbledore.   
Harry and Hermione were sitting at the right end of the Gryffindor table, which was the end closest to the staff table. They were trying to listen in to their professors' conversations.   
"Minerva, we haven't the faintest inkling who took the hat, and I do not want to falsely accuse someone," Dumbledore explained.  
McGonagall said something back, but Harry couldn't hear what because suddenly Snape came storming into the Great Hall, something small clenched in his right fist. He looked over at the Gryffindor table and his upper lip curled menacingly. Harry glanced nervously at Hermione, who pointed to the corner of the staff table, motioning that they should crouch at the corner to hear what Snape had to say. Sure enough, he walked right up to Dumbledore and spoke to him in a quiet voice. Luckily, Harry and Hermione were close enough to hear his harsh words.  
"Headmaster, I have evidence of who stole the hat," he barely whispered.   
"Who and what, Severus?" asked Dumbledore, sounding vaguely bored.   
"Well," Snape began, "look what I found right under the hat's storing shelf." He stretched out his right hand and showed its contents to Dumbledore. The headmaster gasped. Harry did too, when he saw what was in Snape's hand. It was a Canary Cream.  
  
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One week later...  
  
  
It had been a terrible week for Fred and George Weasley. After the story of their Canary Cream being found, no one believed them when they told everyone that the didn't steal the hat. Ron and Ginny didn't even believe them. They were suspended for four days, and had to do two hour detentions every night until October. Snape wanted them expelled, and so did the other Slytherins. But Dumbledore said that just because one of their inventions was at the scene of the crime, no one could prove that the twins had stolen the hat. Harry and Hermione didn't know what to think. But both of them were pretty depressed these days. Ron wasn't speaking to Hermione or Harry. He would spend his time with Seamus and Dean, who were perfectly happy to have someone else join them in daily games of Exploding Snap. Divination lessons were even more boring then usual. The Gryffindors had them with the Hufflepuffs. On the first lesson of the year, Harry walked up to the North Tower by himself. Ron had gone with Seamus and Dean a few minutes before. When Harry got to Professor Trelawney's stuffy, hot room, he sat down in a small table in the back of the room. Ron was sitting with his new "friends".  
"Good afternoon, my dears," came an all to familiar voice from a dark corner of the classroom. Professor Trelawney appeared out of the darkness, holding a small box. She sat down at one of the small tables. "If you could all gather around this table, yes, just gather around." Lavender and Parvati sprinted forward and stood on either side of the professor, watching her excitedly. The rest of the class shuffled to the table slowly. "Oh, and once you trip, Mr. Longbottom, you have my permission to just go on to the hospital wing," the professor said, staring hard at Neville. She then turned her attention back to the cup, while the rest of the class watched Neville warily. And then, he tripped. Right over his own shoelaces. He fell face first to the ground, and blood poured out of his mouth.   
"Go to the hospital wing now, dear. Mr. Weasley, would you escort him?" Professor Trelawney asked, eyeing Ron.   
"Uh," Ron muttered. "Sure." He took Neville by the arm and led him out of the dark classroom, leaving a trail of blood behind them. Lavender and Parvati were smiling triumphantly, as if they had been the ones to predict Neville's fall.  
"Now then," Professor Trelawney continued, "we are going to start Cotalling. It's a very complicated process. Would you all please divide into pairs." Harry looked around uncomfortably. Lavender grabbed Parvati's arm, and Parvati nodded at her. Kammi and Cassy started whispering in the corner of the room. Seamus and Dean were seated at the table next to Professor Trelawney's, looking bored. Hannah Abbott was holding Terri Boot's hand, swinging it. The only person left was...  
"Hello, Harry," a cheerful voice said. Harry turned to see Ernie Macmillan, a friendly Hufflepuff boy.   
"Hello, Ernie. Want to be my partner?" Harry asked. Ernie smiled broadly. "Really? You mean it? Of course! Me-partners with Harry Potter!  
Amazing. Lets go sit down." Ernie said this all extremely fast.   
"Uhhhh...okay," Harry said. They took the table next to Kammi's and Cassy's.   
The two girls were still whispering.   
"Now," began Professor Trelawney, "Cotalling is a very difficult task. It will require your complete concentration and effort." Her eyes flashed in the direction of Seamus and Dean. Dean rolled his eyes.  
"Now some of you may be wondering what Cotalling is. Well, it is extremely complicated. Now, I will show you the Cotall, which is the main tool for Cotalling." She opened the small box and pulled out an object wrapped in thin pieces of parchment. She slowly took the gray bowl-shaped Cotall. She pulled out her wand and tapped the inside of the bowl.   
"Cotalliatellium!" she cried. She tipped the bowl to the side. The bottom of the Cotall opened up, and a miniscule clear ball tumbled out into the professor's outstretched hand. The opening closed up just as quickly as it had opened. Professor Trelawney pushed the bowl to the side and held up the tiny ball. "This is the Cesta," she explained. She placed the Cesta on the table and tapped the spot right below it.   
"Cestonium!" she chanted. She Cesta quivered violently. The professor raised her arms so that they were in the same line as the top of her head. The Cesta rose up and stopped only when it was in the exact same line as the professor's arms. With one quick motion, Professor Trelawney reached forward and grasped the minute ball. It shook in her hands, then stopped.  
"It is extremely important that you catch the Cesta once it has levitated into the air. If you don't, it will escape and you may never find it so you can return it to the Cotall. Then the entire reason for this will be ruined. Here is the next part. It is a bit tricky, so watch carefully." Porfessor Trelawney held the Cesta with her thumb and, pointer finger. With her other hand, she took hold of the Cotall and placed it upside down. She then placed the Cesta on top of the Cotall. It made a ping sound, then turned into a piece of parchment. Professor Trelawney picked it up and read it to the class.  
"Harry Potter will discover a deep, dark secret by 1st of June this term," she said mysteriously. The class looked at her quizzically. The door suddenly banged open. Ron was back. He sat down with Justin Finch-Fletchley, who smiled at him. Harry studied Ron for a minute, the focused his attention back to Professor Trelawney.   
"When the Cesta was levitating in the air, I thought of young Harry," she began. "The Cesta then gave me one true statement about Harry's future. Whoever you think about at that stage in the spell, that is who you will find out about. You and your partner will share a Cotall and take turns performing the spell." She waved her wand and a Cotall appeared at each table. "Begin."  
Harry turned to Ernie, who stared at him. "You go first," he said nervously. "Okay," Harry agreed. He took the Cotall and placed it in front of him. He took  
out his wand and tapped the bowl. "Cotallatellium!" he shouted. Harry tipped the bowl to the side and the tiny Cesta fell out into his hand. He then set the ball in the middle of the table, tapped the spot below it and said, "Cestonium!" just like Professor Trelawney had demonstrated. The Cesta quivered, so Harry raised his arms to his head. The Cesta followed.   
"Think of someone," said a voice in Harry's head. "Think of Ron." Harry sqeezed his eyes shut and concentrated on his best friend.  
"Harry, catch it!" Ernie yelled. Harry moved his arm forward and grasped the cold Cesta. It felt like the snitch, only a bit smaller. Harry took the Cotall and put it upside down. He then put the Cesta on the Cotall, his hands sweating with anticipation. Harry blinked. The Cesta was now the small piece of parchment. Fingers trembling, he read it aloud  
"Ronald Weasley will have a terrible accident before the fifteenth of April." Harry read, his voice shaking slightly. He looked up at Ernie. His face was as white as a sheet.   
"J-just because th-that paper said that, it d-doesn't mean it's t-true." Ernie was clearly more bothered by the paper then Harry was. Harry could also tell that he didn't believe a word he was saying.   
"Oh I know," Harry said loudly. But inside he was terrified. What accident? Would he really discover a secret? Or was this just Professor Trelawney's idea of a good way to scare everyone? After Ernie performed the spell, Harry left the classroom with the others, his mind full of question, but he had no answers. He ran all the way back to the Gryffindor common room to tell Hermione what had happened.   
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
Hermione laughed when Harry told her what had happened in Professor Trelawney's classroom.   
"You actually believe what that old fraud did?" she inquired, a hint of amusement in her voice.   
"But she didn't even do it; the Cotall did!" Harry contradicted. Hermione raised her eyebrows at him.  
"But who knows who made those things, Harry," she argued. "I think she just made Cotalling up. I don't remember coming across it in any of my books..." Harry frowned. Hermione had a point.  
"I still want to talk to Ron." Hermione laughed again.   
"Good luck!" she said haughtily. "I tried to speak to him before I went to Arithmancy yesterday but he just walked away." She then picked up a book and started reading while Harry headed over to the other side of the common room where Ron was playing Exploding Snap with Dean, Seamus, and Neville. He cleared his throat. All three boys looked up.  
"Uh, Ron?" Harry asked timidly. Ron just kept staring at him. "Um, can I speak to you?" Ron nodded.  
"Well, obviously you already are," he retorted. Harry looked around at Neville, Seamus, and Dean.   
"I mean alone," he said, feeling extremely uncomfortable. Neville now looked a bit hurt. Harry bit his lip. Ron spoke to the others.  
"Excuse me guys, but, ah, Harry would like to have a word with me. I know that he is extremely sorry to interrupt our game, but hey! What are friends for, eh?" He stood up and followed Harry up to their empty dormitory. When they got there, he turned to Harry. "Okay, whatever you have to say, make it quick; I want to get back to the game." Harry gaped at him.  
"Ron, I... wh-... why are you mad at me?" Harry asked. Ron scowled.  
"Are you still talking to Hermione?" he said quietly.   
"Yes, of course," Harry answered, dreading what was coming next.   
"Then I am mad at you. After what I just said, any halfway decent person would be able to figure out why I am mad at you. But you're not exactly halfway decent in my book now, are you?" Ron said sarcastically. He started to leave the room, but Harry grabbed his arm.  
"Ron, please. I have to talk to you about something serious." Ron sighed and looked at Harry. Their eyes locked; Harry's bright and pleading, and Ron's angry and hurt. "Ron, remember the Cotalling in Divination?"  
"Yes. Why?" asked Ron.  
"Well, I thought of you." Ron gasped.   
"I thought about you, too," he cried. Harry gaped at him.  
"Ron, the paper said that you would have a terrible accident!"  
"But it said that you would lose someone that you care about!" They stared at each other, horrified. Then they fell into each other's arms.  
"Oh Harry, I'm sorry! I am such a baby."  
"No Ron, it's my fault. I shouldn't make you feel left out. I'll go tell Dumbledore tomorrow that I don't want to be a prefect."  
"No, don't Harry!" Ron cried as the two boys broke apart. "I don't want you to do that! I was just mad and I felt left out. And besides," he continued, his face lighting up in a grin, "having prefects for best friends just might come in handy sometimes." Harry laughed. Then he became serious again.  
"What about Hermione?" Ron's face darkened.   
"What about her?" he said softly.  
"Will you make up with her?" Harry inquired anxiously. Ron sighed.  
"I guess so. But she wasn't willing to give up her position as a prefect as you were. But... I guess I will." Harry grinned.   
"Let's see if she's still in the common room." The two boys raced downstairs, and were shocked to find Hermione in tears.   
"Hermione, what's wrong?" Harry cried, racing over to her. Ron followed, equally concerned. She looked up and let out a great dry sob.   
"L-l-la...lav...Lavender!" she managed to choke out. It took awhile, but Harry and Ron managed to calm Hermione down enough so she could talk. She told them this story.  
"I was just sitting in here doing my homework when that little Gracie Brown came in. Remember her; she was in our compartment?" Harry and Ron nodded. "Well," Hermione continued, "she started talking to me, and telling me how great I was, and then she said that she liked me a lot more then she liked Lavender."  
"Well what's so bad about that?" Ron asked.  
"Lavender and Parvati came in." Hermione answered.  
"Ohhhhhhhh," Ron murmured.  
"Lavender had heard all what Gracie had said. She came over and pulled Gracie away from me and told me all these awful things!"   
"What things?" Ron asked. Harry elbowed him. Ron mouthed what and turned back to Hermione. She leaned over and whispered something in Ron's ear.   
"She didn't!" he gasped. Hermione nodded.   
"Oh, believe me. She did."  
"What?" Harry cried.  
"Come here." Hermione commanded. Harry leaned over and Hermione whispered six awful words in his ear. Harry repeated Ron's reaction.   
"Well no wonder you're crying!" Ron said. Hermione nodded again, tears welling up in her eyes. "Well, don't go off crying again; you just go up an get a good night's sleep. We'll see you in the morning." Ron led her to the doorway that led to the girls' dormitories and the boys watched her vanish from sight, still sobbing.  
  
  
  
Author's Note: A little short, we know. But we will post more soon. PLEASE REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	6. Default Chapter Title

Harry Potter and the Messengers of Sorrow Ch-6  
  
Author's Note: Okay. There has been a bit of confusion. Since the Sorting Hat is gone and is not found yet, then naturally all of the first years haven't been sorted into houses yet. They are all in one common room called the first year common room. They will stay there until the Sorting Hat is found and can sort them. But they can go into a house common room if they are invited by a member of that house. Only first years can do this. Also, Lavender had invited Gracie to come in whenever she wanted to, but I think now she will have different feelings toward Gracie. Well, anyway, sorry for the mix-up! Enjoy Chapter 6!  
  
Disclaimer: We do not own any characters except Cassy Moon, Kammi Nott, Gracie Brown, and all of the other new first years. Thanks!  
  
  
One month later. Sorting Hat still missing.  
  
  
  
"Hermione! Hermione! Guess what? Guess what?" Gracie Brown came bouncing into the Gryffindor common room, her eyes dancing with excitement. Hermione, who was sitting on the chair by the fireplace, laughed.  
"What, Gracie?" she asked.  
"Well," Gracie continued mysteriously, "are you sure you want to know so fast? Don't you want to guess first?"  
"But Gracie," Hermione said, pretending to pout, "I'll never guess. I never do.   
So just tell me."  
"Well, okay," Gracie grinned. Then she whispered something in Hermione's ear. Hermione gasped. Harry, who was sitting across the room, bounded over to them.   
"What is it?" he demanded.  
"Oh Harry!" Hermione said happily. "They've found the Sorting Hat!"  
"Now I can get sorted." Gracie added.  
"That's great!" Harry cried. Then he frowned. "Where did they find it?"  
"Well, that's just it." Gracie shrugged.  
"Just what?" Hermione inquired.  
"They found it in," Gracie looked around dramatically, "the Forbidden Forest. And you two know the only two people at this school that go there all the time."  
"Fred and George," Harry murmured.  
"But they wouldn't do a thing like stealing the Sorting Hat!" Hermione insisted.  
"I wouldn't think so, either. I don't want to believe that they would do such a thing." Harry sighed.  
"But they did." Hermione said quietly. Gracie looked from Harry to Hermione wide-eyed, then ran out of the common room.  
  
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Draco Malfoy looked from Crabbe to Goyle, then back to Crabbe again. "All is going well," he sneered. "That fool Dumbledore still thinks that those Weasley twins stole the hat. This is just like Father planned." He paced the Slytherin common room. The torches on the wall reflected him, printing his ghastly silhouette on the stone walls. He then turned to his comrades. "Did you two successfully put the hat in the forest?"   
Crabbe and Goyle exchanged bewildered glances. "Uh," Goyle grunted.  
"You idiots! DID YOU PUT THE OLD POINTY THING IN THE AREA WITH ALL THE TREES?" Draco yelled.   
"Oh, yeah. We did." Crabbe smiled. Goyle nodded in agreement.   
"Good," Draco smirked. "We'll pay back those lowlife Weasleys for ruining Father's reputation. That inspection of the house in the beginning of July! Those idiots checked the secret chamber under the drawing room. There they found everything." Draco paused and frowned. "Everything that my Father got as rewards from his master. It's all gone. Father now has nothing, and neither do I." The evil grin suddenly lit up his face again. "Except," he continued, "for one thing."  
  
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"Finally, we get to see the sorting!" Ron Weasley cried as he, Harry, and Hermione made their way down to the Sorting Ceremony. They took a seat at the Gryffindor table. The Sorting Hat was perched on its usual stool, closely guarded by Professor McGonagall. The entire school was present, except for Fred and George Weasley. They were serving their detentions tonight, as punishment for stealing the hat. They were being supervised by the caretaker, Filch, who couldn't care less about the sorting. After the chatting had died down a bit, Dumbledore stood up and surveyed the crowd of students.   
"Everyone, we finally get to see the sorting!" he cried. The entire school showed their appreciation by cheering so loud that Harry was sure that even Fred and George on the opposite side of the school could hear them. "Now," Dumbledore continued, "most of you know who we suspect night have stolen this hat. If you have anything that you want to tell us about the hat's disappearance come visit me in my office sometime tomorrow. Now then, if you would start our ceremony, Minerva?" Everyone turned to Professor McGonagall. She nodded toward the hat, and it sang its annual song. Then, she cleared her throat, and called out the first name on her list.   
"Addington, Mabel!" A girl with red brown hair made her way up to the stool and gingerly placed the hat on her head.   
"RAVENCLAW!" the hat yelled.  
"Bennett, Pharrah!"   
"HUFFLEPUFF!"  
"Brown, Grace!"  
"GRYFFINDOR!"  
The Gryffindor table went wild, Hermione especially. She hugged Gracie as soon as she joined them. Harry heard her whisper to Gracie, "I'm so proud of you!" Gracie beamed.   
Harry watched as Farrell, Gina was made a Slytherin, and Gingleson, Garrett was made a Hufflepuff. Next came Henshaw, Robert, (RAVENCLAW!) and then Imes, Hubert, who also became a Gryffindor. Harry didn't really pay attention to the rest of the ceremony except the new Gryffindors, who were, besides Gracie and Hubert, Johnson, Ken; Jouell, Kristina; Lenningston, Michael; Moyer, Markus; Nera, Edward; and a pair of girl triplets, Holly, Polly, and Molly Peterson. Then, the wonderful feast appeared on their plates and they ate...and ate...and ate. When everyone had finished eating, Harry felt that he might need to float on a stretcher to get back to the Gryffindor tower. Suddenly, Ron spoke up.   
"You know, I wonder where the Sorting Hat was found." Harry and Hermione exchanged nervous glances.   
"Er," Hermione muttered. "We don't know." She hung her head. Harry felt equally ashamed. They hadn't told Ron where the hat had been found for fear that he might get upset that where it was found is more evidence that Fred and George took the hat. Ron was extremely upset when word got around that Fred and George had stolen the hat. But the way he had reacted was nothing like the way Ginny Weasley did. After she found out, she shut herself up in her dormitory for three hours. Her best friend, Deirdre Johanssen, said that Ginny cried the entire time. She was worried about what would happen to her twin brothers. Harry and Hermione could only hope that Ginny didn't find out where the hat had been found.   
  
  
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Argus Filch rounded the corner, panting heavily. He must check on those horrendous Weasley boys. Where had they run off to? They were supposed to be cleaning the floors in Professors' Snape, McGonagall, and Flitwick's offices. He had left for a moment to see what was going on in the Great Hall; he had heard tremendously loud shouting and cheering coming from there. He wondered what was going on in there, indeed. He suddenly heard voices. They were coming from down the hall. "But Fred, Dumbledore doesn't believe us. I can see it in his eyes, even when he tells us that he thinks us innocent."  
A second voice spoke, identical to the first voice, but lower, "He will believe us, George. We just have to get him to believe us. We did not steal that hat. And we know it."  
Filch gasped. He had been sure that those boys had stolen that hat. Who else would have? Their idea of a practical joke, perhaps. But the boys could have been lying, also. Probably their hope that someone might be listening to their conversation, and then that person would run straight to Dumbledore and claim that they were innocent. But Filch answered his own question almost instantly. What he had just heard sounded too sincere to be made up. They also kept their words quiet. If they had wanted someone to hear them, they would have talked much louder, wouldn't they? But that's a stupid idea. Filch thought to himself. He didn't know how these boys' crazy minds worked! But still...still...there was a nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach. Maybe he should tell Dumbledore what he just heard. But that's not all that he would tell the headmaster. If Filch could work up the courage, then he just might also tell Dumbledore what he saw in the forest last week...  
  
  
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One week later...  
  
  
"Okay everyone! Here she is! The professor that you have all been waiting for! May I present Professor Q. Nemo!" Dumbledore smiled warmly. Then there was a pregnant pause.   
Then, "TaaDaa!" A woman shot out from under the staff table. Everyone gasped. A few people even screamed. Professor Q. Nemo stood up and grinned. "Hello everyone!" she shouted gleefully. Everyone stared at her, mouths hung open in shock. "I will be your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher for this term!" she continued, as though she didn't see at all how surprised everyone was. "I hope to meet you all soon!" It was just then that the professor realized that everyone was staring at her and her smiled broadened. "Oh, sorry everyone. I kind of never grew up," she confessed sheepishly.   
"That's for sure," Ron whispered in Harry's ear. Harry nodded, but he wasn't really listening. He actually thought that the new professor seemed kind of interesting... she definitely had energy, that was for sure. But there was just something about her; Harry couldn't put his finger on what. Was it that she had arrived two months late to Hogwarts, or that she was wearing pink robes and a red hat and it clashed horribly? Or that Dumbledore had just announced that she had just got back from Russia fighting vampires? No, those weren't it. It was a loving feeling, though not that he was infatuated with her or anything. It was more like a feeling that he had known her for a long time...   
  
  
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Voldemort paced the dark cave, waiting for Wormtail. He suddenly heard footsteps echoing throughout the cave. Wormtail was back. Voldemort cracked an evil grin.  
"So Wormtail," he sneered, "did you kill him?"  
"Yes master," Wormtail whispered. Voldemort walked over to him. Wormtail flinched as his master touched his shoulder.  
"Send the signal to the Death Eaters," Voldemort commanded. "I want all of my old followers back. We have power now, Wormtail. I do not intend to lose that power, not until my tasks are complete. I want to finish what I started fourteen years ago..." He paused. "Are people frightened?"  
Wormtail nodded, and then sighed with relief as his master released his tight grip on his shoulder. "Yes, master. Very afraid. Some people even went unto hiding."  
Voldemort laughed. "Oh, don't worry about them, Wormtail. We'll find them. They can't hide for long."  
"Master," Wormtail began hesitantly, "people know about the old muggle and Bertha Jorkins. I-I've heard them talking about it. They know you killed them." Voldemort turned and faced his servant.   
"Excellent," he cried. "Excellent, Wormtail! We want them to be scared. We need them to be scared. And," Voldemort continued, and evil glint is his eye, "they should be scared. Especially one teenage boy..."  
  
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Author's Note: Haaaaaahaaaa! We are ending this chapeter here! (I know, we are so mean.) But, we will do an extremely kind and courteous thing. We will give you a couple quick sentences taken right out of Chapter Seven. So you will kind of know what is going to happen next. Here is the short little phrase; Harry is thinking this in his head.  
  
Poof! She was gone! Just like that. One second she was there, and the next second she was gone. Harry could only think of two things, and they were...how did someone like her just... vanish? And why?  
  
  
  
If this confuses anyone... good. No, just kidding. But try to guess who this person is who is missing. No, I will not tell you who, you will have to read chapter seven and figure it out for yourself. (We are sooooooo mean.) But anyway, please review! Thanks, tchao!  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	7. Default Chapter Title

Harry Potter and the Messengers of Sorrow Ch-7  
  
  
  
"Okay everyone!" shouted Professor McGonagall through all of the chatter and noise. "Homework: Write an essay about how you feel about transfiguring toads into pillows. That will be all and... you are dismissed."   
Harry raced out of the classroom with Ron and Hermione. Hermione was patiently retelling McGonagall's lesson on transfiguring toads.   
"It's quite simple, really," she was saying. "All you need to do is concentrate."  
"I was concentrating." Ron mumbled. Hermione frowned.   
"Well, you were obviously not concentrating hard enough. If you had been, the spell would have worked perfectly, if the textbooks are correct. I'm sure they are though, they've only been wrong for me once..." Ron looked over at Harry and rolled his eyes as Hermione rambled on and on. Then all of a sudden she stopped. Lavender Brown stood blocking her path, Parvati behind her, imitating Lavender's smirk. Hermione forced a smile.  
"Hello Lavender...Parvti," she said with false cheerfulness.   
"Right, Hermione." Lavender said sarcastically. "Look, you stay away from my little sister. You're a bad influence on her. She now, like, reads and studies and stuff. She's acting like all of those weird bookish types. You know...like you." This was all just too much for Hermione. She stepped up toward Lavender and tried to look tough. This was very difficult. Lavender was much taller than Hermione, for she only came up to Lavender's collarbone.   
"You're just jealous, Lavender," she said calmly. Lavender's head jerked down and she stared at Hermione, her eyes flashing. Ron made a move as though to knock Lavender over, but Harry grabbed his arm.   
"It's Hermione's fight, Ron. We'll only get in to it if things start getting nasty."  
"It already has gotten nasty," Ron muttered, but he stepped backward and reluctantly watched the scene from behind Harry. But Ron had been right. Things were nasty. Suddenly, without warning, Lavender pounced on Hermione and knocked her over. Hermione screamed. After a few moments, there was a pile of people in a heap on the floor. People were kicking, screaming, and crying. Harry was trying to pull people out of the heap. Hermione had not been seen or heard from in a while.   
"Get off, Get off!" he shouted. Ron imitated him. It was a matter of minutes, (though it seemed like hours) when they finally cleared all of the people off of Hermione. She was laying in the hallway, her eyes shut and her face was expressionless.   
"Is she...is she," Ron said, sounding panicked.  
"No, of course she's not dead!" Harry shouted. But even he didn't believe that. He tentatively walked up to her and leaned over he face. Then, he sighed and smiled.   
"She's breathing," he announced.  
Everyone cheered.   
"She just fainted. I would too, If all of that weight had been on me!" Ron cried. There was the sound of running footsteps. Professor Nemo appeared in the corridor. She looked around at Harry and Ron leaning over the unconcious Hermione, to Lavender and Parvati over in the corner, (Lavender's lip had been cut) and then to the crowd of people standing on the opposite side of the hallway, breathing heavily. Then she smiled.   
"Don't worry, everyone! I know exactly what happened. Here, Harry. Let's put Miss Granger here on a stretcher. She waved her wand and a stretcher appeared next to Hermione. Harry and Professor Nemo lifted her upon it. "  
"Ah, Mr. Weasley?" Professor Nemo called out.   
"Yes?"   
"Would you accompany Miss Granger to the hospital wing? I need to have a word with Mr. Potter and the others." Ron nodded and set off toward the hospital wing, Hermione drifting strangely behind him. As soon as they had vanished behind the corner, Professor Nemo turned to the crowd. Then she spoke very quietly.  
"I think I have a pretty good idea of what just happened here, but I would like to hear it from at least three of you. How about... Mr. Potter, Miss Brown, and... Miss McDonald," she finished, indicating toward a second year girl with red hair who had been watching from the corner. "Everyone else may go back to their studies, but I may need to speak to some of you individually. Potter, Brown, McDonald- follow me, please." Harry, Lavender, and Natalie McDonald silently followed Professor Nemo around the corner. The remaining students went back to their classes.  
  
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"What exactly happened, you three?" Professor Nemo paced around her office. Lavender was sitting in the visitor's chair in front of Professor Nemo's desk, Natalie was hovering in the corner, and Harry was leaning against the window sill, watching the third year Hufflepuffs potting wildonflowers.   
"Lavender?" Professor Nemo turned to Lavender's chair. Lavender just played with some strands of her hair and stared off into space.  
"Miss Brown!" Professor Nemo said, a little louder this time. Lavender jumped.  
"Ummmmmm," she stuttered. "Well, I was talking to Hermione, and all of a sudden, she punched me!" Harry stared at her, amazed. Then, he was suddenly furious.  
"That is a lie!" He shouted.   
"Calm down, Harry," Professor Nemo said. "Let Lavender finish." Harry sighed and leaned back against the window. The professor gave Lavender a penetrating stare through her wire-rimmed glasses.   
"You're sure that that was the way it happened?" she inquired. Lavender nodded. "Well, Harry doesn't seem to agree." Professor Nemo motioned toward Harry. "Let's here your story, Potter."  
"Well, Lavender was mad at Hermione because her little sister, Gracie, likes Hermione more then Lavender. So, Lavender pounced on poor Hermione. It was all Lavender's fault," Harry protested.  
"That is not true!" Lavender cried. "I would never do anything of the sort! Professor Nemo, he's lying. He's best friends with Hermione. He'd do anything to get her out of trouble."  
"Yes," said Professor Nemo quietly, looking into Harry's eyes, "I know." Then, she sighed. "Well, Natalie," she began, "whatever story you say is true is true for me."  
Natalie looked positively terrified. "Um, er, well, I don't know," she sputtered.  
Professor Nemo smiled. "If you don't want to say it in front of Lavender and Harry, I can have them leave my office for a moment if you like."  
"Yes, please," Natalie squeaked. The professor ushered Harry and Lavender out the door and in to the corridor. She shut the door, and Harry was alone with Lavender.  
"Liar," Lavender muttered as soon as the door clicked shut. Harry decided not to answer her, but busied himself by listening to an extremely interesting conversation that two paintings were having down the hallway.   
"Well, I read that a man in Scotland got one last week," said the old lady in one of the paintings.   
"Poor thing!" exclaimed the other painting, a younger girl. "Who was it that it was about?"  
"His brother." The older lady replied. "Cried himself to sleep for weeks."  
"How'd it happen?" the younger girl questioned.   
"The same way in that that lady down in France's daughter did. Horrible," the older lady shuddred.  
"So many people," began the younger girl, "ever since..." She trailed off. They started talking again, but Harry had no idea what they wree saying, because suddenly the door flung open. Professor Nemo looked unusually sincere.   
"Harry," she said, "you may go. Take Natalie to greenhouse two on your way, please. Lavender, please come with me." Lavender, looking puzzled, stepped into the office after Natalie stepped out. Professor Nemo waved, then shut the door.   
"What'd you tell her?" Harry asked Natalie.  
"What you said," Natalie replied. She paused. "I can't believe Lavender lied."  
"Oh, I can," Harry said, as they made their way to the entrance hall. He flung open the doors and they stepped out into the sunshine. They walked the rest of the way to the greenhouses in silence. Natalie spoke when they stopped in front of greenhouse two.   
"Thanks, Harry," she smiled.  
"Your welcome, Natalie," Harry said, returning the smile. Natalie blushed and walked into the greenhouse.   
Harry ran the rest of the way back to the castle. He wanted to go visit Hermione. He ran up many flights of stairs and raced down lots of corridors before he reached the hospital wing. When he got there, Ron and Ginny were at Hermione's bedside.   
"How is she?" Harry gasped, out of breath from running.  
"Shhhhh." Ron put a finger to his lips. "She hasn't woken up yet."  
"Why not?" Harry asked desperately. He looked at Hermione. She was laying, still as a statue in the bed. She was breathing, though.  
"She has one more hour to sleep before the sleeping draught wears off," Ginny explained.  
"Why did she need a sleeping draught?" Harry asked, confused.  
"It was the only way to cure her," Ron answered. Harry nodded.  
"I hope she'll be okay," Ginny said softly.   
"Oh, she will be," Ron croaked, but he looked as if he didn't believe what he was saying.   
The three of them sat on the bench next to Hermione's bed, waiting for her to wake up. Ginny checked her tiny silver watch.   
"She should be waking up any moment now," she announced. They all stared at Hermione for awhile. If anyone had come in at that moment, they would have seen Hermione on the bed and three people waiting around her, watching her intensely, even though she wasn't doing a thing. Then, Hermione stirred. Ron, Harry, and Ginny jumped up and crowded around Hermione's bed.  
"Wake up," Ron murmured. As if on command, Hermione's eyes slowly blinked open.   
"Where am I?" she said hoarsely.   
"The hospital wing," Ginny told her gently. Hermione blinked again and sat up. Three pairs of hands pushed her down again.   
"What?" she cried.  
"You need to rest," Ron said firmly. Hermione sighed, then nodded. She settled down in bed and looked around.  
"Lavender did it, didn't she?" she said, but she said it more of a statement, and not a question. The three people surrounding her nodded. Hermione sighed again.   
"When can I leave?" she inquired.  
"Madame Pomfrey said that you could tonight, if all went well," Ginny replied. Just then, Madame Pomfrey bustled into the room.   
"Good, you're awake," she said briskly. She went over to the shelf and took down a bottle of red liquid. She poured it into a small glass and handed it to Hermione.   
"Drink this," she commanded. Hermione gulped it down. Then she made a face.  
"Yuck!" she cried. Everyone except for Madame Pomfrey laughed.   
"Yes, but it will make you feel better," the nurse explained.  
"Oh, I know," Hermione said. "I just don't like the way it tastes."  
"Oh, I am so glad you're okay, Hermione!" Ginny cried. Hermione smiled.  
"Yeah," she agreed. "Yeah, me too."  
  
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The next day...  
  
  
"I hate Divination," Ron whined, as he and Harry entered Professor Trelawney's dreary old classroom.   
"So does everyone else," Harry muttered. He and Ron climbed up the ladder to the loft and sat at table in the back of the room.   
"Except for Lavender and Parvati," Ron pointed out. Harry shrugged.  
"True," he agreed.   
Everyone in the room chatted for a few minutes. Then Professor Trelawney glided in.   
"Good day to you," she greeted everyone. "I have foreseen that this lesson will have a surprise ending. A good way to put your minds in the right prospective, no? Well, it will bring up the suspense in the room, all the while."   
Professor Trelawney looked around the room. Everyone was staring at her, confused.   
"Well, let's begin our lesson," she exclaimed, ignoring everyone's puzzled looks.   
Divination was boring, as usual. Professor Trelawney was continuing with cottaling, and everyone hated it, with the exception, of course, of Lavender and Parvati. They were also the only ones who even gave a second thought about the "surprise" at the end of the lesson.   
"Probably she'll predict something terrible about one of us," Harry heard Seamus whisper to Dean.   
"Probably Harry," Dean whispered back. "She hates poor Harry." After he heard this, Harry knew how right Dean could be, so he dreaded the end of the lesson. Finally, with only ten more minutes left, Professor Trelawney made an announcement.   
"Everyone, the fates are trying to tell me something. Listen." Professor Trelawney shut her eyes and started meditating. Harry looked at Ron and rolled his eyes. They both tried hard not to laugh. Lavender and Parvati, on the other hand, were sitting on the edge of their seats and were watching Professor Trelawney intently. Then, suddenly, with no warning, several things happened at once. The room became freezing cold, Neville clattered off his chair, Parvati screamed, then Professor Trelawney vanished without a trace. Ron and Harry jumped up. The room was in a total uproar. Neville was lying on the floor, whimpering. Seamus and Dean were trying to comfort him. Lavender and Parvati were examining the spot where Professor Trelawney had dissapered.   
"I can't imagine where she might have gone!" Harry heard Parvati exclaim.   
"Well, I think that the fates were trying to tell us something, and that they took her!" Lavender squealed.  
"I think so, too," Ron said, joining the two girls at the front of the room. "I think that they took her as a hint to Dumbledore to get a new Divination teacher!" Harry laughed. Lavender and Parvati frowned.   
No one knew what to do. Everyone was shouting, running, and some people (Neville) were even crying. No one noticed the big black screech owl flutter past the window. Ten minutes later, everyone left the classroom, confused. Lavender and Parvait had gone to tell Dumbledore about Professor Trelawney. Harry walked down the stairs with Ron, just as puzzled as everyone else. It was just, poof! She was gone! Just like that. One second she was there, and the next second she was gone. Harry could only think of two things and they were... how did someome like her just... vanish? And why?   
With his head bulging with questions, Harry started towards the common roon, Ron trailing after him. Maybe Hermione would have an idea of what had happened...  
  
  
Disclaimer: All the characters belong to J.K. Rowling and not to us! Thanks, tchao!  
  
  
  
PLEASE REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	8. Default Chapter Title

**__**

Harry Potter and the Messengers of Sorrow Ch-8

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Can you find the spelling mistake in this chapter? If you spot it, e-mail us at [cassyandkammi@writeme.com][1]

If you guess correctly, we will mention you in our next chapter as a character!

(We know, it sounds lame, but it was the best that we could think of.)

Also, if you e-mail us about the spelling mistake, please leave the name and/or e-mail address that you would like us to mention you as. (Also say whether not you'd like us to have you say things in the next chapter.) So, happy reading and keep you eyes peeled for that mistake! So, anyway, here is chapter eight! 

The disappearance of Professor Trelawney spread through Hogwarts like wildfire. Harry didn't want to admit it, but he kind of missed the miserable old bat, as Hermione called her. But what was even worse was the substitute. She was and extremely old witch, with short white hair and false teeth. Harry didn't know, of course, that she had false teeth until they popped out in the middle of class. Even stranger was her name. On the day she came, she introduced herself to us as Esther. Seamus tried to call her Professor Esther, but she calmly told him to drop the professor part. 

Everyone was happy about Professor Trelawney being gone, except for Lavender and Parvati. (Naturally.) They complained and whined, complained and whined. They even went to Professor Dumbledore and demanded that Professor Trelawney came back. Dumbledore had to explain that he didn't make, as he said, "Sibyll" disappear. He had no idea how she had vanished.

Harry thought that Ron was the most excited about Professor Trelawney being gone. He loved Divination now, even though the substitute was even worse than the regular teacher.

"Hey, at least she's not predicting your death every class," Ron pointed out every time Harry tried to talk to him about Esther. Harry privately agreed, even though he did not say so to Ron. 

At mealtimes, everyone would talk about Divination. Not the class, but the teacher. Most everyone at the Gryffindor table was in Divination, except for Hermione and a few others. Hermione just sat at the edge of the table, rolling her eyes. 

"Oh, honestly!" she would cry. "She's just a teacher!" 

"I never thought I'd hear Hermione say "she's just a teacher" about a teacher before," Ron whispered to Harry one afternoon during lunch. Harry nodded. 

"Hermione, should I take Divination when I'm a third year?" Gracie asked Hermione. 

"NO!" Hermione cried, at the same time Lavender said, "YES!" They glared at each other. 

"Uh-oh!" Ron muttered. Gracie was looking from Hermione, to Lavender, then back to Hermione again.

"I don't want to take Divination, Lavender," Gracie said quietly to her sister. Lavender looked furious. Then she smiled gleefully. 

"Why?" she inquired.

"Why what?" Gracie scratched her nose.

"Why do you not want to take Divination?"

"Ah, well, that's a very good question, Lavender," Gracie sputtered nervously. "You know, it's so good of a question, that I can't answer it!" Gracie started to run away from the table, but Lavender grabbed the end of her robes. 

"WHY Gracie?" she asked firmly. 

"'Cause Hermione said not to," she mumbled.

"Don't listen to HER, Gracie. I'm your sister; we're family. We should take the same classes." Lavender put her arm around Gracie's shoulders. Gracie shrugged it off. 

"Hermione is nicer to me than you are," she pointed out. Lavender smirked.

"Hermione is a fake," she said loudly. 

"Hey!" Ron cried, standing up. 

"Shut up, Weasel," Lavender retorted.

Hermione walked over to Gracie and knelt down beside her so that she was at Gracie's eye level. 

"Come on, Gracie," she said, "Let's go back to the common room."

"No way!" Lavender tugged on Gracie's arm. Hermione frowned, then smiled. 

"All right, then," she said cheerfully. She whispered something in Gracie's ear, then walked back to her spot at the end of the table. 

The rest of lunch went along normally until the very end. Hermione was watching Lavender lecture Gracie on what classes to take. It was obvious that Gracie wasn't listening. She was staring off into space. Then, she suddenly turned so she was facing Hermione, who nodded ever so slowly. Gracie slowly wrenched her wrist out of Lavender's strong grip and reached for something on the table. Lavender was talking so much that she didn't even notice. She then looked at Hermione, who nodded again. 

"Hey, Hermione!" Ron yelled, waving his hand in front of Hermione's face. "Wake-up!" Hermione shoved Ron's hand away and started to smile. Ron followed Hermione's gaze and burst out laughing. He nudged Harry and pointed to Lavender. Harry also started to laugh. Soon, the entire Gryffindor table was laughing. 

"What?" Lavender was yelling furiously. "What?" Everyone just kept on laughing. Lavender had no clue what was going on until she started feeling around her neck and finally got to her head.

"Ugh!" she cried. She brought her hands down from her hair and wiped them on Parvati's napkin. "I _hate_ pumpkin pie!"

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Lavender would not speak to anyone but Parvati and the teachers for two weeks after the pumpkin pie incident. She was especially mad at Gracie and Hermione.

"They had no right to do that to me," Harry heard Lavender tell Parvati one day on their way to Charms. "I never did anything that mean to them."

But Harry had other things on his mind other than the Lavender/Gracie/Hermione fight. He had received a small piece of parchment in the hallway the other day. Before he could see who had given it to him, they had walked away. Harry had waited until that night in his dormitory to open the note. It had said this:

Harry,

Could you ensure that you can be alone in the trophy room tomorrow night at midnight? There is something that you need to know. 

Signed,

F/- 

Harry had no idea who "F/-" was, so he was hesitant to go to the trophy room. He recalled the first time he made a nightly visit there; he almost got caught by Filch! But there was something tugging in the back of his brain, something that said that this note was extremely important, and that he shouldn't miss it. But even so, Harry decided to tell Ron and Hermione about the note.

  
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"Oh, Harry! What if it's from You Know Who?" Hermione shrieked as soon as Harry had told her and Ron about the mysterious letter. 

Ron raised his eyebrows. "I don't reckon You Know Who would send Harry a letter that said, 'Can you _ensure _that you can be alone, and that there is _something you need to know?_' I mean, that's kind of obvious."

"I don't think he should go," Hermione said stiffly.

"Well, I think he should," Ron shot back.

"Well, you have no common sense," Hermione replied calmly.

"NO COMMON SENSE!?" Ron jumped up from his chair. Hermione did, too. They glared at each other.

"Uh, guys?" Harry said timidly. "It's okay. I'm going to go."

"Whaaaaaaaaaat?" Hermione cried.

"But, I'm taking the Invisibility Cloak," Harry whispered, looking around to make sure that no one else heard his last sentence. Hermione's eyebrow furrowed, then she nodded her approval and headed up the stairs to the girls' dormitories. 

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Lucius Malfoy walked quietly into Azkaban, his eyes looming over the prisoners. He was looking for a certain couple. Ah! There they were. The Lestranges. Lucius scurried over to their cell. 

"Isabelle!" he whispered. A middle-aged woman stood up and slowly made her way over to where Lucius stood. She looked tired and beaten. There were dark circles under her eyes, and her loose, dirty clothing hung off her frail frame. The Dark Mark burned black on her pale forearm. She rubbed her eyes and stared at Mr. Malfoy in disbelief.

"Lucius?" she croaked. Lucius nodded. 

"Oh my goodness! Lucius! You're here! At last. We've been waiting for so long." Mrs. Lestrange was beside herself with relief and happiness. "Rupert! Wake up!" Isabelle nudged her husband. He woke with a start. 

"Must… go… back… to… master…" Rupert Lestrange murmured. His wife kicked him lightly in his side. He groaned.

"He has dreams about returning to our master often," Isabelle explained to Lucius. She turned back to her husband. 

"Rupert, Lucius is here. He will take us back to our master." Mrs. Lestrange leaned over and shook her husband on the arm. He groaned again. Mrs. Lestrange shrugged, and turned back to Lucius. 

"Rupert has been ever so happy ever since the dementors left. It was kind of funny, watching them leave. A person in a black cloak came and said something to one of them, and they all just left. But not until they checked all the cells to make sure that the doors were locked securely. Now, everyone in Azkaban has to wait until someone lets them out. You can open these doors from the outside, but not from the inside. Pull that handle, Lucius, and let us be free again." Mrs. Lestrange looked at her old friend. Lucius nodded and unlocked the door. Mrs. Lestrange leaped over and smiled at Mr. Malfoy warmly. 

"Ah, Isabelle! It's so good to see you again," Lucius whispered, smiling back. 

"How is Narcissa?" Isabelle questioned. Lucius smiled fondly, picturing his beautiful wife in his head. 

"She is doing well, Isabelle. She can't wait to see you," Lucius replied. Mrs. Lestrange grinned again and walked over to her husband and shook him again. 

"Ru-_pert_!" Mrs. Lestrange finally pulled her husband up into a sitting position by his shoulders. "Look who it is."

Mr. Lestrange slowly fluttered his eyes open. "Wha?" he murmured. Mrs. Lestrange giggled and leaned over to whisper something in his ear. His eyes grew wide. He turned to his wife. 

"_Really?_" he cried. Mrs. Lestrange nodded happily. "I'm up!" Mr. Lestrange shouted gleefully. "We're going home!"

Lucius smirked and led his two fellow Death Eaters quickly out of Azkaban.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The next night…………….

"Hurry up, Fred! We've got to go now, or we're going to miss him!"

"Shut up, George. I'm ready."

"You don't need to comb your hair to go on nightly visits."

"Well, if Filch catches us, at least I'll look nice. Unlike some other people I know."

"Oh, shush up and follow me."

"Fine."

If anyone had been in the hallway at that time, they would have heard two boys arguing furiously and them see them appear behind the big portrait of the fat lady. But, unfortunately for Misters Fred and George Weasley, someone did see them. It was someone that they would have preferred not to be seen by. 

But, the Weasley boys did not see this person, so they continued walking toward their destination- the trophy room. 

The twins arrived at the trophy room as the giant grandfather clock in the corner chimed the twelfth hour… midnight. The boys exchanged their relief.

"Good, we're hear on time."

"I'm glad that he didn't get here before us."

"That would have caused some problems. He might have thought then that the note had been from… you know."

"Yeah, you're right."

"Where _is _he?"

"I dunno."

"Here I am. Are you looking for me?" A new voice spoke. Harry Potter stepped out from nowhere. 

The twins swiveled around. "Yes, Harry. We sent you that note." Fred Weasley said. 

"Why?" Harry asked. 

"Because, you see, well…" George looked at Fred nervously.

"It's okay. I won't tell anyone." Harry assured them.

"Harry, WE DID NOT STEAL THAT HAT!" Fred shouted.

"Shhhhhhh!" George and Harry whispered in unison. 

"You'll wake everyone up," Harry added. 

"Oh," Fred said, "well, you believe us… right?"

Harry looked around the room and leaned in towards the twins. "Give me some proof."

Fred and George exchanged nervous glances. "All right, then," Fred cleared his throat. "George?" Fred looked at his twin expectantly. George scowled and started speaking. 

"Remember when we were wrestling with Draco Malfoy on the train?"

"Yeeess…" Harry stuttered.

"Well, Draco stole our Canary Cream," Fred explained.

"He _what?_" Harry cried.

"Shhhh!" George put his finger to his lips and looked around nervously. "He stole our Canary Cream."

"How do you know this?" Harry whispered hesitantly. "I want you to prove it."

"Well,' Fred began," we were walking into the Great Hall when we saw Draco and those two guys that he always hangs around with walk the opposite way. Then, we felt into our pockets and the Cream was gone."

Harry stared at Fred and George with a mixture of pity and disbelief. "Why should I believe you?"

Fred and George grinned, and George took something out of his pocket. "We took a picture." 

Harry took the picture from George and stared at it. It showed Malfoy sneaking away from the Great Hall, beckoning for Crabbe and Goyle to follow him. Then, it showed the three of them vanish behind the corner. 

"Okay, okay." Harry said, exasperated. "I believe you now. But, why did you choose me to come meet you? Why not Ron or somebody?"

"Well, Ron wouldn't believe us." George said. "We couldn't choose a family member, because they would not believe us no matter what. But, we also wanted someone who knew us well, too. We immediately thought of you and Lee Jordan. But, we finally decided on you."

"Why?" Harry inquired.

Fred smiled mischievously. "Harry, if Lee Jordan got caught one more time sneaking out of the Gryffindor Tower, he would be expelled." Harry grinned. "And," Fred continued, nudging Harry, "you have that Invisibility Cloak." Fred motioned to George and they started to leave. 

"WAIT!" Harry cried. Fred and George turned, both still smiling smugly. "How do you know about my invisibility cloak?"

George laughed. "Oh, we have our ways. Believe me, Harry, we have our ways."

Extremely unlucky for Fred, George, and Harry, Severus Snape intended to tell everything that he had just seen and heard to Professor Dumbledore.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Ron, hurry up you dork!" Hermione yelled up the staircase to the boys' dormitories. "We're going to miss breakfast!" She turned to Harry, who was sprawled across one of the chairs. "What does he _do_ up there?"

Harry shrugged. "Who knows?" 

_Thump, thump, thump!_ Ron came scampering down the stairs. He paused when he got to the bottom. 

"Hermione?" He asked timidly. 

"What?" Hermione replied absently.

"What's a dork?"

Hermione looked at Harry and they burst out laughing. They laughed all the way down to the Great Hall. Ron was tagging along behind them. 

"What?" he kept saying over and over again. "_What?_" But Hermione and Harry were laughing to hard to answer and they only stopped when they reached the Great Hall. There was a bunch of people crowded around what looked to be a sign. Ron stood of his tiptoes to read it. 

"House… Dueling… Contest. Can… no, that's Come… sign up today. See the Head of your house for many… not, that's more… details." 

"Ohhhh!" Hermione cried. "I want to sign up!" She grabbed Harry and Ron's wrists and sped off into the Great Hall. "We've got to find McGonagall!" 

"Ah, Hermione?" Ron said delicately. "You're cutting off my circulation."

"Right," Hermione replied briskly. "Oh, there's McGonagall. You guys come with me. I want you to sign up, too." 

"She's obsessed," Ron muttered to Harry while Hermione dragged them up to Professor McGonagall. She was seated at the end of the staff table chatting with Professor Flitwick. Hermione ran up to her.

"Professor!" she cried.

"Miss Granger, what is it?" Professor McGonagall looked shocked. Hermione dropped Ron and Harry's wrists. 

"Professor, I want to sign up for that House Dueling Contest. They do, too." Hermione motioned toward Harry and Ron. They stood behind her, both of them nursing their wrist that Hermione had held. 

"Oh, that's all," McGonagall said. "Well, you mean you want to sign up to qualify."

"Qualify?" Hermione questioned.

"Anyone in the school can sign up. They just tell the head of their house. But only two students from each year of each house will actually participate in the contest."

"How do you choose those two people?" Hermione asked. McGonagall smiled. "All of your professors will determine that," she answered. 

"I still want to sign up and so do Harry and Ron," Hermione said.

"Yeah," Ron said. "It sounds like fun." 

"Okay," Professor McGonagall agreed, writing Hermione and Ron's names on a blank sheet of parchment. "What about Potter?"

"Well," Harry stammered.

"He'll do it." Hermione said. She looked at her best friend. "Right?" she added, giving him a puppy dog look. Harry sighed. 

"Come on, Harry," Ron whined.

"Okay, okay. I'll sign up." Harry muttered. Hermione smiled happily as McGonagall added Harry's name to the list. 

"When will we find out who the winners are?" Hermione inquired.

"In two days," Professor McGonagall replied. "The sign up deadline is tomorrow."

"Good," Ron muttered. "I hope I win."

"I hope I don't," Harry contradicted. _Winning something else is the last thing I want to do," _he thought. _ Especially after the Triwizard Tournament._

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

__

Two days later……

"Guess what we are finding out today?" Hermione cried, bounding into the Gryffindor common room. Everyone looked up at her sleepily. ("Everyone" includes as follows: Harry, Ron, Neville, Seamus, four first years, Natalie McDonald, three fourth years, Gracie, and the Head Boy, Jason Nartowsky.) 

"What?" Harry murmured, his eyes half shut. 

"We find out what two people out of the ten Gryffindors in each year won!" Hermione replied happily. 

"You mean eight," Dean said, coming in from the boys' dormitories. "Neville and I didn't want to sign up."

"Six," another voice said from the girls' dormitories. It was Kammi Nott. "Cassy and I didn't sign up, either."

"Lavender and Parvati did, though," Seamus said. "I saw their names below Harry's on McGonagall's sign up sheet when I went to sign myself up."

"Where _are_ Lavender and Parvati, anyway?" Cassy Moon asked.

"Who cares?" Hermione and Gracie said in unison.

"They've been acting weird lately," Kammi said slowly. She looked up at Hermione. "Did you hear what they were talking about last night?"

"Yes," Hermione replied curtly. "Unfortunately."

"What were they saying?" Dean said eagerly.

Cassy started to say something, but Hermione covered her mouth up with her hand. 

"Nothing important, Dean," Hermione answered.

Harry could smell trouble, so he hastily changed the subject. "The winners will be posted in the Great Hall at eight o' clock. What time is it Ron?" Harry nudged Ron in the stomach. 

"Ouch! I mean, ah, seven fifty-five. Whoops, we better go," Ron and Harry stood up and looked at everyone else. 

"I'm coming," Hermione said quickly.

"Us, too," Seamus added, pulling Jason to his feet. 

Everyone decided to go down except for Neville, Dean, Cassy, Kammi, a first year, and two fourth years. Everyone else ran anxiously down to the Great Hall.

Professor McGonagall was hanging up a big sheet of parchment up on the wall when they got there. There was already a big crowd of people around her. Across the hall, Professor Snape was hanging up the winners for Slytherin. Over to the left was Professor Sprout for Hufflepuff and to the right was Professor Sinistra for Ravenclaw. All of the teachers had a crowd of students swarming around them. 

"All right, all right," McGonagall said, trying to get through the crowd. "Move aside and I'll post it. Yes, Miss Brown, the judging was fair." Harry looked over beside McGonagall. 

"That's where Lavender and Parvati were. They just wanted to get here early." Ron muttered. "They must have gotten up at the crack of dawn."

It was probably true. Lavender and Parvati were at the head of the crowd, right beside the wall. 

"Yeah, because Joseph Dowright is way behind them, and he left the common room at five!" Ron added.

Then, it was posted. McGonagall jumped out of the way as students ran toward the wall to see if they had won. As always, Ron was the reader for Harry and Hermione. He stood on his tiptoes to read it.

"Jason was a winner for his year," Ron announced. 

"Well, go to the fifth years," Hermione said impatiently. 

"Right then. So, ah, oh. Oh, I see. Oh. Well, congratulations, Harry and Hermione." Ron said quietly, and he started running in the opposite direction. 

"Ron!" Harry cried. Suddenly, he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Congratulations, Harry!" Harry turned around to see Seamus. 

"What?" Harry asked.

"You won!" Seamus cried. "You and Hermione! You are the winners for the Gryffindors!"

"We _are?_" Hermione said in astonishment. "Really?"

"Oh," Harry said, feeling dazed. Hermione stared at him suspiciously. 

"Thanks, Seamus," Hermione said. "But we're going to go. I think Harry needs to lie down."

"Okay." Seamus shrugged. 

Hermione led Harry out of the Great Hall and into the deserted corridors. She set him down on a chair and stared at him.

"What's the matter with you, Harry?" she cried. "Aren't you excited?"

"No," Harry said flatly.

"Why not?"

"Ron didn't seem too excited. Or did you just not notice?" Harry said icely, glaring at Hermione. "He can't do the contest with us. It won't be any fun without him." Hermione's eyes flashed dangerously. 

"Are you saying that I'm not any fun?" she said, her voice quivering slightly.

Harry looked at the floor. Hermione spoke again.

"You know Harry, I have no idea how we became friends in the first place."

"Yeah, you just wanted to be friends with the famous Harry Potter!" Harry shot back. 

"You just wanted someone to do your homework for you!" Hermione shouted. That was enough for Harry. He stood up and walked over so he was eye to eye with Hermione. He was fuming. 

"I've always been a loyal friend!" Harry yelled.

"Well, I think that Malfoy has been right about you all along, Harry!" Hermione screamed. "You're selfish, conceited, spoiled," 

"_Spoiled?_" Harry shouted. "My parents were murdered when I was one year old and I had to live with maniacs until I was eleven. You call that _spoiled?_"

"Yes, I call that spoiled!" Hermione shot back.

"Oh yeah?" Harry cried. "Well, you're just a big old know-it-all who has no friends except for Ron and me. If it wasn't for us, you'd be miserable." Hermione laughed.

"Harry, you'd be dead if it wasn't for me."

"Yeah right!"

"The Devil's Snare, Harry. I saved you and Ron. You would have died there if it wasn't for me. I also saved you in the fire room. Remember that?"

"Ron and I saved you from the troll."

"Well, that was because you locked it in with me. It was your duty to save me."

"DUTY!"

"Yes, duty."

"Hermione, Ron hated you at the beginning of our first year. I hated you. Everyone hated you!" Harry shouted, a bundle of fury swelling up inside his chest.

It was all too much for Hermione. She looked Harry straight into his eyes,

slapped him across the face, then walked quickly away.

Harry placed his hand to the spot where Hermione had hit him. It hurt. He ran over to the other side of the hallway, where there was a mirror. He looked at himself. Hermione's hand had left an imprint on his left cheek. He walked back over to the chair and sat down. Part of him wanted to kill Hermione, and the other part wanted to beg for mercy. It was true that Hermione basically did his homework for him. With Quidditch practices, he couldn't survive without her doing homework for him. He slowly walked up to the Gryffindor common room. Without Hermione and Ron, he didn't know how he was going to survive for the rest of the year.

Author's Note: That's it! Please post you comments and reviews! We really want to hear them. This chapter is our longest yet!

~Cassy and Kammi 

P.S. Also, e-mail us at [cassyandkammi@writeme.com][1] if you find our mistake! (See author's note at the beginning of the story.) Tchao! 

  


   [1]: mailto:cassyandkammi@writeme.com



	9. Harry Potter and the Messengers of Sorro...

  
DISCLAIMER- All characters are property of J.K. Rowling, except for Cassy Moon, Kammi Nott and the first names of the Lestranges.   
  
  
  
Harry Potter and the Messengers of Sorrow- Ch.9  
  
  
  
The next few weeks were a struggle for Harry. Hermione and Ron would not speak to him. They would not speak to each other. McGonagall saw that they were in a fight, so she confronted Harry and Hermione.  
"For the Dueling Contest, you two need to work together as a team. That's one of the reasons why we picked you two- you work extremely well together. So I suggest that you end this ridiculous disagreement and be friends again."  
Harry had no problem with this, and he told McGonagall so after Hermione stormed away.   
"Harry, what did you say to Hermione the night of your fight?" McGonagall asked.  
Harry gulped nervously and told her.  
"Well, no wonder she's mad, Harry!" McGonagall cried. "I'd me angry, too." Frusturated, Harry told her what Hermione had said to him.   
She smiled weakly. "Harry, you have every right to be mad, also. But you must end this. How does Ron feel about this fight?"  
"He's in it, too," Harry confessed. "Neither of us will speak to each other."  
"Why him?" McGonagall questioned. "The night in the hallway was just you and Hermione, was it not?"  
Harry shifted uncomfortably in his chair and gazed at the pictures on McGonagall's office walls.  
"He was mad because Hermione and I qualified for the Dueling Contest and he didn't," he whispered.   
"Ah, yes," McGonagall said. "Well, that was extremely difficult for us to decide. You see, all three of you had the right qualifications. In fact, every Gryffindor in your year had the qualifications. But, we had to pair two people up that knew each other well and worked well together. We thought about Miss Brown and Miss Patil, but they would not be serious enough together. We strongly considered Hermione and Lavender, but then Professor Nemo kindly reminded us about their, ah, fight. You and Ron were a definite possibility, but, sorry... but we thought that you two would not be serious enough, either. At six-thirty the morning that they were to be posted, we had Miss Granger and Seamus Finnigan. But then we thought that they did not know each other well enough. So, that is how we ended up with you and Hermione."  
Harry tried to put this all together, but he just sighed and stared up at his professor.   
"Good luck trying to get Hermione to talk to me," he said, standing up and stretching. "But I better go. You handle it."  
"Wait a minute there, Potter. I'm not going to convince Miss Granger to talk to you. If you want to look like fools in front of the entire student body, that's your choice. I'm just here to help move you along," she gave him a penetrating stare from under her wire rimmed spectacles. She rummaged around in her desk and pulled out two thick envelopes. She handed them to Harry. One had his name on it, the other Hermione's. "Give that one to Miss Granger. It has all of the things you need to do and prepare before the first duel." She smiled. "I hope to see you talking again by next week." She then ushered him out the door.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
  
  
The first visit of the year to Hogsmeade was scheduled for October, 28th. It was October, 22nd. As of right now, Harry was going alone. Hermione was going with Kammi Nott and Cassy Moon, and Ron was going with Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas. The only person left was Neville. But Harry wasn't sure if he should ask Neville if he wanted to go with him or not. He may just be better off going alone.  
  
At last, it was time to go to Hogsmeade. Harry had not asked Neville, so he boarded the train by himself, looking longingly at Hermione and Ron. But he was not alone for long. Soon, Draco Malfoy appeared at his compartment, sneering. Crabbe and Goyle were not behind him, which was extremely unusual.   
"So, the famous Potter has finally been deserted by his friends," Malfoy laughed maliciously. "But don't blame me. I warned you five years ago not to hang around with people like them." Malfoy gave a fake sigh, twirling his wand in between his fingertips.   
Harry turned away from the window and glared at Malfoy.   
"I warned you, Potter," Malfoy slowly started to leave the room. "If you ever want to change your mind about your friends, just let me know. Believe me, you won't regret it." Malfoy slammed the compartment door shut.   
Harry leaned back in his seat and looked around the empty compartment. He felt a twinge of loneliness in the pit of his stomach. Then, he heard voices outside his compartment door. He recognized one as Hermione's.   
"There is no space left on this train!" Then, his door opened. Hermione stuck her  
head inside. "This is empty," she started to say, then she spotted Harry, "oh, never mind, someone's in here." She started to shut the door when Harry jumped  
up.   
"Hermione, wait!" he cried. Hermione stuck her head back in the compartment. "What?" she said dimly.   
"Can you stay for a second? I need to talk to you." Harry said. Hermione sighed heavily.  
"I guess." She turned around. "I'll be just a second, okay?" Then she walked in the room and closed the compartment door behind her.  
"Who were you talking to?" Harry asked.   
"Kammi Nott and Cassy Moon." Hermione replied shortly.  
"Oh," Harry said. "I see." There was a pause.  
"What'd you want to say?" Hermione asked.  
"I wanted to apologize." Harry said quietly. Hermione looked at the floor, her hand still clutching the doorknob. "I'm sorry for yelling at you, and I really think that you're fun to be with, but..." Hermione looked up.  
"I'm not as good as Ron, is that it? Because I'm smart, and I work hard, and I don't know anything about Quidditch, is that it? Well, Harry, that's how I am. Right now I feel like I have no real friends, and that you and Ron just use me so you can copy my homework. Isn't that the only reason we're friends? ISN'T IT?" Hermione was now yelling. Her fist tightened around the doorknob, and her face was turning pink.   
"Hermione, what a load of rubbish!" Harry cried, standing up and walking over to her. "Ron and I think-"  
"Oh, I know what you and Ron think," Hermione interrupted him, "and I know that you two prefer each other's company to mine. Fine then! FINE! I'll just become friends with Cassy and Kammi. They're smart enough to do their own homework!"  
"But Hermione, McGonagall said that she'll pick new partners for the dueling contest if we're not friends again by next week!" Harry said, wringing his hands.  
"Good!" Hermione said. "I hope she does. I don't want you to be my partner. From now on, Harry Potter, you're going to have to do your own homework!" Hermione turned the doorknob and walked out of the compartment. She slammed the door behind her, making the floor rattle.   
Harry sank back into his seat. He had just lost a friend. And deep down inside, Harry knew that Hermione was right. Hadn't he just been thinking that he couldn't get his homework done without Hemrione? Was he such of a horrible person that he used Hermione all this time, just so he could get some easy studying? Harry sat back in his chair, and thought about all this the whole way to Hogsmeade.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
"Narcissa!" Isabelle Lestrange cried, collapsing into her old friend's arms. "I missed you so much."  
"I thought you were dead," Narcissa confessed, and she looked over at her husband. "Lucius Malfoy, however did you free them?"  
"It was simple, Narcissa. I just walked into Azkaban, and undid the lock. No guards, no dementors, nobody." Lucius smiled to himself, as he leaned against the familiar brick anterior of his house.   
"Thank goodness! The Dark Lord must have the dementors back on his side! He will be regaining power soon." Narcissa said happily.  
"My dear Narcissa, power has already been regained by the Dark Lord." Rupert Lestrange informed her. "Soon he will kill that Potter boy, and then he'll be free to rule the world."  
"How will our Master kill that wretched boy?" Mrs. Lestrange asked. Lucius and Rupert exchanged sinister grins.  
"We shouldn't share such, ah, powerful information with ladies such as yourselves." Lucius smirked.  
"Oh, please, darling! I won't tell Draco." Narcissa said, sticking out her lower lip as far out as it could go."   
Lucius laughed. "Narcissa, Draco is the key to killing Potter. He already knows the plan."   
"Well, tell us, quick!" Isabelle exclaimed, as she and Narcissa leaned in toward their husbands. Lucius laughed again, and he leaned in and whispered his master's plan to kill Harry Potter.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
Lord Voldemort paced across the cold, damp, stone floor of his hideaway cave. He looked into the eyes of his prisoner.   
"Now tell me again, Ms. Trelawney, what house is Potter in at Hogwarts?"  
"Not a word about Harry Potter shall leave my lips. I have foreseen your plans to kill him, and I advise you not to even try it, for it will not work."  
"You're trying to protect the boy?" Voldemort's eyes flashed dangerously.   
"It is my duty as a professor at Hogwarts to protect all of our students."   
"So, you don't feel this way about Potter alone? You don't care for the boy?"  
"I despise him."  
"I like the way you think, Ms. Trelawney. Why don't you join me, and we can kill Potter together?"  
"Goodness no! I don't care for the boy, but that certainly doesn't mean that I want to kill him! You are foolish, and evil, and cruel, and selfish, and-"  
"Miss. Trelawney, I believe I am the one that has you chained up, not the other way around!" Sibyll Trelawney fell silent.  
"What do you want me to do?" she asked, her voice trembling.  
Voldemort laughed. "Just this."   
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
Professor Albus Dumbledore stared into the faces of Severus Snape and Argus Filch. "So you say that you both heard Fred and George Weasley say that they did not steal the Sorting Hat?"  
"That's correct, Headmaster," Filch said. "They said something about Draco Malfoy?"  
"Severus, is this true?" Dumbledore turned to the potions master.  
Snape sighed heavily. "That's what I heard Weasley say."   
"You said something about a photograph?" Dumbledore said to Snape.  
"Yes," Snape mumbled. "The Weasleys showed Potter a photograph.   
"What did Harry do after he saw the photograph?" Dumbledore asked.  
"He looked surprised," Snape said.   
"We have to get that photograph, Headmaster," Filch said.  
"I know, Argus," Dumbledore replied. "But how?"  
"Call them in here, Albus. They'll show it to you. After all, it may get them off the hook, won't it?" Snape said.  
"I suppose so, Severus. Call them to my office, please." Dumbledore said.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
"So, Miss Granger is extremely angry?"  
Harry sighed. He had just finished telling Professor McGonagall about what Hermione had said to him on the train. "She's really mad, Professor."  
"Well, Harry, were you just using Hermione for your homework?" McGonagall asked.  
"A bit...okay yes, sort of, I don't know!" Harry said. He was getting extremely frustrated with himself.   
"Harry, like I said earlier, if I were Hermione, I would be furious with you. But of course, Miss Granger is probably more forgiving than I would have been." McGonagall said.   
"I feel terrible," Harry mumbled, resting his chin on his hands. "I just wish that there was something that I could do to show her that she really is my friend."   
"Yes, Harry," McGonagall said. "But first, you must find out if Hermione really is your friend before you try to convince her that it's true. You can't tell someone something if you don't believe it yourself." McGonagall mumbled a few words, and pointed her wand at the sponge near the window. It immediately sprang up in the air and began washing the blackboard.   
"Yes, but how do I prove it?" Harry inquired.  
"I have an idea, Harry," McGonagall said to him, but her eyes were still on the sponge. "Offer her a trial period."  
"A what, Professor?" Harry asked.  
"A trial period. Let's say, oh, a two week trial period. For those two weeks you don't ask Hermione if you can copy her homework, and you just be the same friend to her as you are to Mr. Weasley. Then maybe, just maybe, she'll forgive you. Hopefully, you two will be friends again by the time you need to start practicing for the dueling contest. You missed a spot."  
"I what, Professor?" Harry asked, confused.  
"Not you, Harry, the sponge. It missed a spot," McGonagall said, getting up to show the sponge where it missed. The sponge seemed as equally confused as Harry.  
McGonagall was trying to point to the spot where the sponge missed. She wasn't getting very far. Whenever she pointed her finger to the spot, the sponge wrung out some water on McGonagall's finger. The Professor was angry, not to mention wet.  
"You stupid sponge!" McGonagall said, cursing under her breath.  
"Ah, maybe I should go," Harry said, feeling quite uncomfortable.   
"Oh, I'm sorry, Harry! Uh, yes, go, and, uh, do what I told you, will you?" McGonagall seemed frazzled. Harry didn't blame her. He ran out of the room quickly, dodging the sponge, who was now circling the room spraying water everywhere. He could hear McGonagall yelling at the sponge all the way down to the picture of the Fat Lady.   
"Duelers rule," Harry said flatly. The Creevy brothers had made up that one. Colin and Dennis had been so excited about Harry being a dueler that they begged for it to be the new password. The fat lady swung forward, and Harry faced an almost empty common room. There were only three people in there. Cassy Moon was sitting in front of the fire, chatting with Kammi Nott, who sat opposite of her. Hermione was sitting in her usual chair, with a big pile of books on the table next to her.   
"Hello, Hermione!" Harry said cheerfully, walking over to Hermione. Hermione looked up and glared at him, then she went back to reading her book. "Whatcha reading?"  
"Just a book," Hermione replied curtly, without looking at him. Harry was startled. It was unlike Hermione to say that she reading "just a book". Usually, she would give him this long, complicated title, then she's explain every little detail about the book until you finally told her to shut up. But Harry wasn't going to let Hermione get away with that answer.  
"Let's see," he said. He lifted the book off of her knees and read the title. "Magical Plants of the Sea and How To Care For Them". That sounds facinating!"  
"What makes you so happy?" Hermione snapped, snatching the book out of Harry's grasp.   
"Hermione, I have a proposition for you," Harry announced.  
"Oh, really?" Hermione raised her eyebrows.   
"Yes. I want you to give me a trial period."  
"A what?" Hermione cried.  
"A trial period," Harry repeated. "You give me two weeks to prove to you that we are really friends, and that I don't just rely on you for homework. Just give it a chance, please?"  
"Okay," Hermione said.  
"Okay? You mean, you agree?" Harry was astonished.  
"Yeah. Sure. Why not?" Hermione shrugged.  
"But you agreed so easily. I thought that I was going to have to beg!"  
Hermione grinned. "Harry, I knew that you'd be crawling to me sooner or later. You just can't survive without me, can you? You, know, if it wasn't for me-"  
"I know, Hermione," Harry said, "if it wasn't for you, I'd be dead."  
"That's right," Hermione replied. "And Harry?"  
"What?"  
"I don't think your little trial period is even going to last a day."  
"Why do you say that?"  
"You don't even have Ron to help you."  
Harry gasped. Hermione was right. He and Ron weren't speaking. Harry grabbed Hermione's arm.  
"Hermione, is Ron talking to you?"  
"No."  
"Oh, no! Come with me, we have to talk to him!" Harry pulled Hermione off the chair and started dragging her toward the portrait hole.   
"Harry, where are you going?" Hermione questioned.  
"We're going to find Ron. Now that I've worked everything out with you, I want to be friends with Ron again, too. I want to sleep peacefully tonight." Harry said. He pulled Hermione down the hallway.  
"Harry, do you even know where Ron is?" Hermione asked. Harry stopped.  
"No," he said curtly, and kept going.  
"Well, he's in the library, which is on the other side of the building!" Hermione cried. Without a moment's hesitation, Harry spun on his heels and started sprinting in the opposite direction, Hermione in tow.   
"I'm going to settle this with Ron even if it takes all night!" Harry said. With a ferocious look on his face that Hermione recognized from Harry's most competitive Quidditch matches, Harry ran off towards the library, dragging a very exasperated and disheveled Hermione behind him.   
  
  
*We know, we know. We were supposed to put our winners of the "misspelling contest" in this chapter. We just couldn't fit you guys in yet so early in the story. But don't worry, YOU WILL GET IN! We won't forget you. If we do, you can e-mail us Howlers. (Hee-hee) (Actually, you can e-mail people Howlers at the Warner Brothers Harry Potter site, or Harry Potter.com) We hope you liked this very long chapter! Please e-mail us at cassyandkammi@writeme.com to share your comments, or you can just review below. Thanks! Tchao!   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	10. Harry Potter and the Messengers of Sorro...

Harry Potter and the Messengers of Sorrow Ch.10  
  
*Our tenth chapter is finally out! We are so excited! Many things happen in this story, so keep your eyes open. Hope you enjoy! Tchao!   
  
DISCLAIMER: All characters, except for Gracie Brown, Kammi Nott, Cassy Moon, and the new first years, are created by the one and only J.K. Rowling.  
  
  
  
  
  
When Harry finally reached the library, he frantically searched for Ron.   
"I don't see him!" Harry cried.  
"Well, it's kind of hard to miss someone with bright red hair," Hermione rolled her eyes. She clearly was not happy that Harry had dragged her halfway across the school. She was used to being the dragger, not the draggee.   
"There he is!" Harry cried, and he bolted over to a small table in the corner of the library with Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas.   
"Ron, I've got to talk to you," Harry said, banging his hands on the table and looking at Ron seriously. Ron looked at Seamus and Dean and shrugged.   
"Harry needs to talk to me about something. Can you excuse us for a minute?"  
"Sure," Dean replied, looking suspiciously at the pair of them as he led Seamus over to another table.   
"What do you want, Harry?" Ron said quietly, avoiding Harry's eyes.  
"I don't want us to be in a fight," Harry said. He had decided to get right to the point, and not dance around it until someone bravely volunteered to say something.  
"Really?" Ron said, looking up at Harry tentatively.   
"Really," Harry said firmly.  
"All right, then," Ron smiled happily. "Let's go tell Hermione."  
Harry sighed with relief. He was friends with Ron and Hermione again, and he was doing alright with the Dueling Contest, and...THE DUELING CONTEST! Harry's eyes widened and he ran over to his best friends. Ron was telling Hermione what had happened, and Hermione looked like she was about to cry, just like she did last year when Harry and Ron had had a big argument.   
"Hermione! The Dueling Contest! It's tomorrow! We haven't practiced at all!" Harry yelped.  
"Oh no!" Hermione gasped. "Ron, come and help us."   
Harry was glad that Hermione said this. He didn't want to leave Ron out.   
The trio raced out of the library and nearly knocked over Ginny Weasley, who had been bending down to pick up a book that she had dropped.  
"Sorry, Ginny!" Ron yelled over his shoulder as they ran to the designated practice room for the duelers.   
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The great black screech owl soared through the night sky, searching below for a certain house. Ah! There it was. The owl swooped down and flew through the window of 014 Hogsmeade Blvd., where an elderly witch sat on a comfortable chair by the fire reading a thick book of spells. As soon as this woman saw this owl, she let out an ear-piercing scream.   
"No!" she cried out, letting her book fall to the floor. "Not Gabriel!"   
The black owl unclenched his big orange claws and dropped a white envelope on the floor in front of the witch, then it soared off into the night sky. With trembling hands, the witch opened the envelope, and read the letter inside of it.   
"No!" she sobbed. "No! I-it can't be true! Oh, my poor son!" The woman's whole body shook with sobs as she reread the letter that had brought her such terrible news.   
"I can't believe he's gone," she whispered quietly, and then there was silence.   
Up above her, the black screech owl was headed toward another house, carrying another white envelope. In the towns below, witches and wizards looked up in terror at this owl, hoping that he was not headed toward their home. Others were wondering, "To whom does this messenger bring such sorrow and suffering?"  
  
  
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"Albus, here's another one!" Professor McGonagall came running into Professor Dumbledore's office, waving a copy of The Daily Prophet.   
"Another what?" Dumbledore inquired.  
"Another death by You-Know-Who. Two, actually. The first one was a twenty-six-year-old man named Gabriel Jenkins. He was married with one child. His mother lives in Hogsmeade, in fact, I know his mother. I should go see her as soon as I can." McGonagall paused.   
"And the other?" Dumbledore prompted. The usual sparkle in his bright blue eyes had vanished, and had been replaced with flicks of distress, sorrow, and anger.   
"A sixteen-year-old girl. Her name was Sari Spumes. Her family lives near the Weasleys." McGonagall said, as she scanned the paper for more names. "That's all for today," she said finally, when she had finished looking.   
As Dumbledore sighed deeply, McGonagall surveyed the elderly professor. He looked tired and worn out, and there were dark circles under his eyes from lack of sleep. McGonagall also felt a bit sorry for him, even though she knew that he hated pity. She knew that two of his cousins, his sister, and his nephew had both been recently killed by You-Know-Who. He had told her that just the other day, and he had also shared what he suspected. "Voldemort's going to kill my entire family, Minerva," he had said. "Just to make me suffer. Then, he's going to go for me."   
Dumbledore suddenly spoke, "Minerva, can you go get Harry Potter and bring him to me, please?"   
  
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"Ready, Harry? One...two...THREE!" Hermione yelled out. She sent red sparks flying at Harry, as he sent blue sparks soaring towards her. Hermione successfully blocked Harry's spell, but   
Harry had no such luck. Hermione's Jelly-Legs Jinx hit him good and hard.   
"Ah, man! How come you keep using the Jelly-Legs, huh, Hermione? This is the sixth time!" Harry cried, as he slowly wobbled around Ron.  
"I'm sorry, Harry," Hermione said. "But it's a simple spell to use, and you've got to practice your blocking. You're not concentrating."  
"I wonder why...." Ron whispered to Harry, and they both laughed. Hermione glared at them.   
"Harry, this isn't fair. You're going to make us lose the contest. Concentrate. Let's start over. This time, I'll use a different spell." Hermione crossed her arms over her chest and eyed her two best friends suspiciously as she thought of something else to do to Harry. She then smiled triumphantly.  
"All right, I have it. Harry, are you ready?"  
"Yeah, I guess," Harry agreed. He seemed a lot less enthusiastic about it than Hermione.   
"One...two..."  
"HARRY!"  
All three turned to see Professor McGonagall running toward them.   
"Harry, the Headmaster wants to see you," she said.  
"What for?" Harry asked, confused.  
"I'm not quite sure, but it seemed urgent," McGonagall answered.   
"Oh," Harry said softly.   
"I'm com"  
"No, just Harry, Weasley," McGonagall cut off Ron.  
"But, Professor! The contest! We have to....Gryffindor!" Hermione added desperately.   
"Miss Granger, please. Come along, Potter."   
Harry shot bewildered glances at Ron and Hermione as he followed McGonagall down to Dumbledore's office.   
  
  
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"So, that's all Draco has to do to kill the Potter boy?" Narcissa asked disbelievingly. "I mean, how and where will we find the right person? How close does he have to be to that boy? It doesn't sound like it will work."  
"My darling, it has to work. The Dark Lord thought of it himself," Lucius protested.   
"Has he captured that Divination teacher yet?" Isabelle asked.  
"Yes," Rupert grinned.  
"I hope Draco doesn't get hurt." Narcissa started chewing on her bottom lip.  
"The Dark Lord will keep him safe, trust me," Lucius assured his wife.   
"Well..." Naricssa looked unsure.  
"Don't underestimate the powers of our master, Narcissa," Lucius scolded.   
Narcissa sighed and looked at Isabelle, who shot her friend a sympathetic smile.   
"Lucius when does The Plan start? I forget." Rupert inquired.  
"Soon, my friend," Lucius gave a sinister smile. "Very soon."  
  
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"Fred...George...may I see that photograph?" Professor Dumbledore asked. The twins looked at each other and happily handed the photo over to their Professor, who studied it intently. Then he spoke to the giant man next to him.  
"Hagrid, kindly go fetch me Draco Malfoy, Vincent Crabbe, and Gregory Goyle. Also, Harry Potter should be waiting just outside the door. Please tell him that I'll be with him in a minute."   
"All righ', Headmaster. I'll be back soon with Malfoy an' 'is pals. Come on, Fang," Hagrid said to the boarhound behind him, who followed obediently. "Hullo!" Dumbledore heard Hagrid greet Harry as he left the office.   
Dumbledore stared at the twins, who actually looked serious, for probably the first time in their lives.   
"You do understand that this photograph does not mean that you two did not commit this crime?" Dumbledore questioned.   
"Yes, professor," George replied. Fred nodded.   
"Very well, then," Dumbledore leaned back and rubbed his chin. Then, he added softly, "Boys, I believe you. But, unless Mr. Malfoy and his friends confess, or if they are proven guilty, there's nothing I can do."   
"We understand that, professor. Thank you for believing us," Fred voiced.   
Dumbledore smiled faintly. He couldn't help thinking how strange it was for these two red-headed boys to be somber.   
The door suddenly banged open and Draco Malfoy appeared. Crabbe and Goyle were right behind him.   
"Professor, we did NOT steal the dumb, ah, I mean, that precious, precious sorting hat," Malfoy pleaded.   
"Please have a seat, Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore gestured to the empty chairs next to the twins. Draco scowled, and then he made Crabbe sit nearest to the Weasleys, then Goyle, and he took the seat nearest to Dumbledore.   
"Draco, Fred and George just showed me this interesting photograph. Why don't you have a look-see." Dumbledore looked very grave indeed as he handed the photo over to the troublesome trio of boys.   
Malfoy stared at the photo, looking dumbstruck. Then, he started yelling.   
"It's a fake, professor! They just want to get off the hook!" Malfoy pointed furiously at Fred and George.   
"Mr. Malfoy, the photo's not a fake. I tested it myself. Would you like to hear the exact spell?" Dumbledore said calmly.   
"Then...how...why..." Malfoy trailed off. He then turned to his cronies. "Crabbe! Goyle! You know that we didn't do this! Isn't that right?" Malfoy's eyes flashed dangerously.  
"Um, uh," Crabbe murmured. Goyle just stared at Malfoy, looking bewildered.   
"See, professor? They agree with me." Malfoy crossed his arms over his chest and stared at Dumbledore, who sighed heavily and rubbed his temples.   
"Why are you lying to me, Draco?" he asked quietly.  
"I...uh..." Malfoy looked around the room desperately, hoping to find anything that could get him out of this predicament. Finally, he slumped back in his chair.   
"Fine! I did it! I stole the hat! Crabbe and Goyle, too. They were the ones who actually hid that hat, not me." Malfoy glanced accusingly at his friends.   
Fred and George exchanged amused glances. Trust Malfoy to pin as much as he could on somebody else.   
"Draco, I am extremely disappointed in you. You, Vincent, and Gregory will all receive detentions, and, twenty points from Slytherin each. Also, you will apologize in front of the entire school for what you have done. And," Dumbledore paused. Malfoy cringed. "I will send a letter home to each of your parents explaining everything. Are there any questions?"   
Malfoy shook his head. Crabbe and Goyle just stared.   
"You may go," Dumbledore finished. When the door shut behind Malfoy, Dumbledore turned to the Weasleys.   
"Fred...George...I apologize. You will each receive ten points for Gryffindor, for what you had to go through. Also, I will rewrite your parents to tell them the truth."  
"Thank you, professor," Fred grinned.   
"Yes, thanks, sir," George added.   
"Your welcome, boys. Now, you can tell patient Harry out there that he may come in," Dumbledore said.   
Fred and George left the office and Harry entered, looking nervous.   
"You wanted to see me, professor?"  
"Yes, Harry. I did. Please have a seat," Dumbledore smiled warmly. Harry sat, and started to speak.   
"Professor, is this about Voldemort?"   
Dumbledore looked at Harry, shocked at his bluntness, but he slowly nodded.   
"Yes, Harry. I'm worried about you. Well, not just me, the entire staff is. Two more deaths were announced today. In the past couple months, four of just my family members alone have been killed. It's getting out of hand. Do you know why I am telling you this?"  
Harry shook his head. "No sir," he whispered.   
"Well, Harry, you are the only one who has ever survived Voldemort. Four times, in fact. Do you know who is his main target?" Dumbledore's piercing blue eyes stared straight into Harry's bright green ones.   
"Me," Harry mumbled.   
"Precisely. Harry, I don't want to frighten you, I just want you to be prepared. Harry, he's going to start killing the people you care about, just to torture you, as he has done to me. That cannot happen. But, the other teachers and I have devised a plan that could maybe stop him, or at least slow him down. Are you with me, Harry?"   
Harry's eyes were gleaming. His face was set, and he looked determined. "All the way, sir."  
  
  
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*Ooh! It's starting to get spooky! (Hee-hee!) We hoped that you liked chapter ten! Sorry it took so long to come out. We've been really busy with the end of the school year, and then summer school. We hope that Chapter- 11 will be out soon. Thanks! Tchao!   
  
  
PLEASE R/R!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!   
  
  
  
  
  
  



	11. HP & the Messengers of Sorrow- Ch.11

Harry Potter and the Messengers of Sorrow- Ch.11  
  
  
  
*Hey, ya'll! Here's Ch. 11! The dueling contest begins in this chapter! We will meet many new characters. Our 10-year-old brother, Kevin, is helping us write these stories. As you know, we put us (Cassy & Kammi) into our stories, so Kevin will be in them, too. BTW, Cassy is no longer writing these stories. It will just be Kammi and a little help from Kevin, and Cassy is going to be the editor of our chapters, since she no longer has the time to write them, but she will still put her input in them. Well, we hope you enjoy this chapter! Tchao!  
  
~DISCLAIMER~ All characters belong to J.K. Rowling, except for the new ones that we have made up.  
  
A/N: There are some cruel remarks about Americans in this chapter, but no cussing or anything like that. You Americans, don't get offended, because remember, we're Americans, too! So if what you read offends you, an American wrote it, so please don't flame me on that, okay? The remarks are important to the plot later on. Thanks for your understanding. ~Kammi  
  
  
  
Harry woke up late on Halloween morning. He rolled over and stared at the ceiling, lost in thought. Something important was happening today, but he couldn't remember what.  
  
"Oh yeah," he murmured, yawning widely. "Today we leave for the dueling contest."  
  
Harry looked over at Ron's bed, but it was empty. Harry grinned. Ron was probably already down at breakfast. He, Harry, Ron, and Hermione had been very excited when Professor McGonagall, who was in charge of the dueling contest, had announced that each pair of duelers should pick a back- up, or a second, in case a dueler fell ill, or got injured, in any possible way. Harry and Hermione had immediately chose Ron. Harry was glad that Ron didn't have to stay behind while him and Hermione went to France for a month. The contest was to take place in France, and Harry looked forward to seeing the pupils from Beaxbatons Academy, who were in the contest as well. The Durmstrang students, since their new headmaster was, as Viktor Krum had written to Hermione, an idiot, were not going to compete in the contest, but their were to be as many as twenty other wizarding schools to compete against, so Harry was not at all worried about the competition. He just hoped that the contest would be as normal as possible, and that something like what had happened last year with the Triwizard Tournament, would not happen again.  
  
Harry, now quite ecstatic, quickly got out of his four-poster bed and pulled on his robes. He realized that he must have slept in extremely late, because the common room was as deserted as the boy fifth years' room upstairs. Harry walked down to the Great Hall, and was happy to see that it was still full of chattering Hogwarts students. Harry took a seat across from Ron at the Gryffindor table. Next to Ron, Hermione was nervously twisting a lock of her brown hair around her finger.  
  
"I don't think I can do this," she said. "Harry, we just haven't practiced enough."  
  
"You'll do fine, Hermione," Ron waved his hand impatiently at her as he helped himself to a large portion of bacon. "Just remember, if you get hurt, you have me to take your place."  
  
"And that's supposed to calm me down?" Hermione said shrilly. Ron glared at her. "No, I mean me getting hurt. That just makes me even more nervous."  
  
"Everyone competing in the dueling contest, please come over here. We'll be loading up the Knight Bus shortly with your luggage," Professor McGonagall called out to the Great Hall with the magical megaphone that Lee Jordan used to do the commentary for all of the Quidditch matches. The word "Quidditch" made Harry sigh. The matches were postponed until all of the duelers got back from the contest, but by now, Harry missed the sport greatly.  
  
"Well, we better go," Hermione said, her voice trembling slightly as she headed toward McGonagall, Ron and Harry following her.  
  
"What teachers are coming?" Ron inquired.  
  
"Well, Professor McGonagall, naturally," Hermione said matter-of- factly. "Also, Professors Nemo, Flitwick, and Snape. I think Hagrid might be, but I'm not sure…."  
  
"Snape?" Harry and Ron both cried out in disgust.  
  
"Yes," Hermione shrugged. "I don't know why, but maybe he just wants to watch."  
  
"Yeah, right," Ron muttered.  
  
"What about Dumbledore?" Harry asked.  
  
"I'm not sure," Hermione said, frowning thoughtfully.  
  
McGonagall led all of the duelers outside and Harry gasped. There were six huge Knight Buses lined up in front of Hogwarts.  
  
"How many students are coming?" Ron said, looking at the buses in amazement.  
  
"About one-third of the school," Hermione replied. "Just look behind you."  
  
Harry and Ron turned and saw what definitely looked like one-third of the school jumbled in behind them.  
  
"Okay, here are your bus assignments," Professor Nemo called out over the noise. "Hufflepuff first years through fourth years in bus number one…"  
  
Harry looked around as Professor Nemo rambled on. He saw Hannah Abbot and Justin Finch-Fletchley in the crowd of older Hufflepuffs and younger Ravenclaws that were getting on bus number two. On bus number three Harry caught sight of Cho and quickly looked away.  
  
"And last, Gryffindor fifth years and above on bus number six," Professor Nemo finished and walked over and said something to Professor McGonagall, who nodded.  
  
"That's us," Hermione said briskly, as she led Harry and Ron over to the last bus.  
  
Harry held back a groan as Stan Shunpike hopped out of his bus and smiled at Harry.  
  
"Neville! 'Choo doin' 'ere for?" he called out. "Your name's not on my list!"  
  
"Uh," Harry stuttered.  
  
"Oh, that's right," Stan chuckled. "You're really 'Arry Potter, aren't you?"  
  
"Er, yeah," Harry murmured, as he hurried past Stan to get on the bus.  
  
"Neville! Why'd that bloke think you were Neville?" Ron asked, snorting with laughter.  
  
"Long story," Harry said quickly. "I'll tell you later."  
  
After saying a quick hello to Ernie Prang, the driver of Stan's bus, he, Ron, and Hermione grabbed three beds near the back of the bus.  
  
The rest of the upperclass Gryffindors filed onto the bus quickly. Jason Nartowsky, the Head Boy, plopped his bag down on the empty bed next to Harry and smiled.  
  
"I'm excited, aren't you, Harry?" he said. "I've never been to France."  
  
"I have. But not to duel," added Jason's dueling partner, Samuel Virfect.  
  
"I wonder where Ginny is," Ron said suddenly, looking around the bus.  
  
"Ginny?" Harry inquired. "I didn't know that she was in the contest."  
  
"She's not," Ron replied. "She's a back-up, like me."  
  
"Well, the fourth year Gryffindors are on bus five, aren't they?" Hermione said, as she picked up her bag and started rummaging through it. Harry and Ron exchanged quizzical looks, but then groaned when Hermione pulled out her O.W.L. Helper, identical to the one she had given Harry for his birthday. Hermione beamed at them.  
  
"Oh, don't feel bad about forgetting yours," she told them, misreading the looks on their faces. "I brought yours, too, because I knew you'd forget them." She tossed Harry and Ron their O.W.L. Helpers, and ordered them to study as she lay back on her bed and started to answer the small sphere's questions.  
  
Harry looked at Ron, who shrugged, and they reluctantly started studying, too.  
  
After everyone was settled on the bus, Stan hopped on and beamed at everyone.  
  
"Welcome to the Knight Bus," he announced. "We'll be in France in moments. Look up 'ere." Stan pointed to a small air mask. "Not all of you know 'ow to do an Oxygen charm, so use these in case we crash, and they are located under your beds. If you 'ave a question, ask it now, just raise your 'and."  
  
Stan looked around, and no one raised a even a finger. "Alright, Ern. Let 'er go."  
  
The beds moved two feet forward as the Knight Bus lurched forward. There was the familiar bang, and then they were on the road.  
  
Harry, Ron, and Hermione rode for awhile in silence, studying with their Owl Helpers as the other duelers chatted excitedly around them. As they entered Ireland, Harry looked out the window. They're was another loud pop, and Harry could tell by their surroundings that they were in an all wizard area. The Bus strolled along the rode for awhile, then screeched to a halt in front of a large building.  
  
"What are we doing here?" a sixth year girl asked.  
  
"We're picking up the students from Ireland, aren't we?" Stan called out, striding over to the double doors of the Bus and hopping out.  
  
"Where will they fit?" Ron said in amazement to Harry, as the other Knight Buses pulled up alongside theirs.  
  
Everyone pressed their faces to the glass windows to see what was going on. Stan walked up to the large building and knocked five times. The door suddenly opened and a tall woman with long, billowing red hair stepped out. She was stunningly beautiful. She and Stan exchanged some words, and the woman beckoned behind her, where several students appeared. Stan led the woman and the pupils to the courtyard where the buses were parked. Harry heard loud sounds, and then Ron nudged him.  
  
"Harry…. open your window." Harry did so and he heard the woman speak.  
  
"Stan, how delightful to travel in your magnificent vehicle," she said, in a strong Irish accent. Her words sounded phony to Harry.  
  
"Who are the kids in there?" asked a red-headed girl, pointing at the Hogwarts students leaning their heads out of the buses. The girl's looks strongly resembled Ginny.  
  
"Oh, these are the pupils from 'Ogwarts," Stan said, gesturing to the buses. He then turned back to the gorgeous woman. "Miss O' Faunian, do you have the list of how the students are going to be divided into the buses?"  
  
"Oh, Stan! What kind of woman do you think I am?" Miss O' Faunian squealed, producing a piece of parchment from her silver, designer handbag. Just then, Professor McGonagall came out of Bus number 3, followed by Professors Nemo and Snape.  
  
"Vivian Molly, how nice to see you," Professor McGonagall said smiling, as she shook Miss O' Faunian's hand. McGonagall's smile, Harry noticed, seemed to be fake, too.  
  
"Oh, Minerva!" Miss O' Faunian gushed. "How good it is to see you again! But please! Just call me Vivian or Viv. My full name is too formal for old friends like us." She then turned to Snape. "Severus!" she cried bubbily. "Oh, it's been so long!" Snape looked back at her beadily, and Miss O' Faunian looked hastily away and looked at Professor Nemo.  
  
"You don't know me," Professor Nemo explained. "But I'm Professor Q. Nemo. I teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. I understand that you're Headmistress here?"  
  
"Oh, yes!" Miss O' Faunian beamed. "But, what does the "Q" in you name stand for, dear?"  
  
"That's for me to know, and you to find out," Professor Nemo said grinning.  
  
"But what shall I call you?" Miss O' Faunian said, looking absolutely distressed.  
  
"Quie or just Nemo would be fine," she answered.  
  
Miss O' Faunian turned to her students. "Everyone, split up into your pods. Your pod number is your bus number."  
  
"But Professor O' Faunian," the Ginny-look-alike whined.  
  
"No buts, dear," Miss O' Faunian shook back her lovely mane of hair and her students reluctantly split up into six groups and each one headed for a different bus.  
  
"Some lady, that O' Faunian, eh?" Ron said to Harry. Harry just nodded.  
  
"That girl looks remarkably like Ginny," Hermione remarked, pointing to the girl, who was getting on their bus.  
  
"I noticed," Harry said faintly. The girl walked over to where Harry, Ron, and Hermione were and took a bed across from them. A couple of other people from her school joined her on their floor, but the rest went upstairs. Harry turned to look at the girl.  
  
"I'm Hermione Granger," Hermione said, striding across the room and holding out her hand for the girl to shake.  
  
"Mary Laughlin," the girl replied, taking Hermione's outstretched hand gratefully.  
  
"These are my friends, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley," Hermione turned to Harry and Ron.  
  
"What?" Mary said in amazement. "No, really, Harry Potter? The Harry Potter? I'm honored," Mary smiled, taking Harry's hand and shaking it. She then turned to Ron and shook his hand, too.  
  
"Might as well meet you too, huh?" Mary said cheerfully.  
  
"Yeah," Ron muttered flatly. "Might as well."  
  
"Hey!" Mary cried, suddenly excited, looking from Harry to Hermione. "Aren't you two…. You know." She smiled slyly. "I've been reading The Daily Prophet and Witch Weekly and I just was wondering…."  
  
"NO!" Harry and Hermione shouted in unison.  
  
"That hideous Skeeter reporter made up all those lies," Hermione added.  
  
"Well, all right," Mary said, but she still looked suspicious.  
  
All of them fell backwards onto their beds and the Bus suddenly popped back into the countryside. The four of them talked about the Dueling Contest for awhile until Stan suddenly called out to everyone.  
  
"Okay, Everybody," he said. "We're going to pop now over the English Channel to France. If you would please sit on your beds and buckle your safety belts."  
  
Harry heard many people groan, but they soon were all nestled safely into their beds under a horrendously tight safety belt. Harry heard the loud pop, and then he felt an uncomfortable feeling in his stomach. Then, they landed on solid ground….hard. The other buses landed around them.  
  
"Okay, unbuckle," Harry heard Stan yell. He gladly did, and started massaging his stomach. He realized that quite a few people were losing their lunches in small brown paper sacks, Mary among them. Hermione, looking green herself, walked over to Mary and put a comforting arm around her shoulders.  
  
"We're 'ere!" Stan cried, as the Knight Bus stopped quickly. Harry peeked out the window and found himself in front of the largest building he had ever seen. It didn't look like a castle, but it looked way too big to be a house.  
  
Everyone jostled around to grab their luggage and hurried to exit the bus. When the trio and Mary were on the nicely kept grass in front of the mansion, Ginny came staggering toward them.  
  
"Ron, I feel sick," she moaned, leaning her head on her older brother's shoulder.  
  
"Yeah, well don't throw-up on me," Ron said, looking down at his sister apprehensively. "Oh, by the way, meet Mary. She could be your long-lost twin." Ginny looked up groggily and stared at Mary, who was looking at Ginny with the exact same expression on her face. They both cracked up.  
  
"I think you're right about us being twins, Ron," Ginny said, smiling at Mary.  
  
A loud, beeping sound interrupted them. Hermione grinned sheepishly, and pulled out a small, gray, square object our of the pocket of her robes.  
  
"What is that?" Ron cried, staring at it.  
  
"It's a beeper," Hermione replied proudly.  
  
"Wait, I thought those things couldn't work around magic," Harry protested.  
  
"They can't," Hermione agreed. "But this one works through magic. It's brand new. Made by an inventor in Bulgaria. Viktor gave it to me. It's also a telephone. We can talk to each other."  
  
Hermione pressed a button on her beeper, which stopped the beeping, and she then opened a small flap while everyone watched her, fascinated. She placed the phone up to her ear and grinned.  
  
"Hello, Viktor," she said. She listened for a bit, then, noticing that everyone was still watching her, glared at them and turned around.  
  
"Uh-huh….yeah. Yes, we're at a school in France….no, not Beauxbatons, they're coming here. I'm not sure what it's called, but I can find out." She paused for a bit. "Oh…oh, really? You are? That's so nice of you, Viktor. Yes, I'll find out right now."  
  
And with that, Hermione sped off toward McGonagall, still talking into the small telephone.  
  
Ron looked at Harry and made a face. "Now, where's she going?"  
  
"I dunno," Harry shrugged.  
  
"Viktor Krum…. he must really like Hermione, eh?" Ron said slowly.  
  
"It's really none of our business, Ron," Harry replied, as nicely as he could.  
  
"Let's go find out," Ron suggested, and he pulled Harry over to where Hermione and McGonagall stood, Mary and Ginny trailing curiously behind them.  
  
"What is it again?" Hermione was saying to McGonagall.  
  
"It's called 'Singarang', Miss Granger," McGonagall answered, then she excused herself and raced over to Professor Flitwick.  
  
"What's Singarang?" Ron asked Hermione.  
  
"This school…. They focus on the arts…. Just a second." Hermione turned away from them and started talking with Viktor again. Ron sighed.  
  
"We'll never get a straight answer from her as long as he's on the phone," Ron muttered, glaring at Hermione's telephone. "Maybe we can get Snape over here; he'll take it away from her."  
  
But before Ron could even look at Snape, Hermione snapped her phone shut and stuck it back into her pocket. She turned to her friends and grinned broadly.  
  
"Viktor's coming," she said, beaming.  
  
"What?" Ron shouted.  
  
"Do you mean Viktor as in Viktor Krum?" Mary asked excitedly.  
  
"The very same," Hermione began. "He felt bad about not being able to compete in the contest, so he's coming to watch. Isn't it wonderful?"  
  
Ron looked as if Christmas had just been canceled.  
  
"But…you…he…can't…." Ron choked out.  
  
"Oh, Ron. I know you're worried about how he'll get here. Well, I talked with Professor McGonagall, and he's going to fly here on his broomstick with an invisibility cloak over him."  
  
"From Bulgaria?" Ron cried in disbelief.  
  
"He wanted to," Hermione shrugged.  
  
"What's Singarang?" Ginny interrupted quickly. "I heard you earlier talking about Singarang."  
  
"Oh, yes. That," Hermione said, pushing a lock of her hair out of her eyes. "This French school is called Singarang. Those are the two magical schools in France: Singarang and Beauxbatons. Singarang focus on the arts, though."  
  
"The arts?" Mary asked, looking up at the school.  
  
"Yes, the arts. You know, singing, painting, drawing…." Hermione trailed off.  
  
"Oh," Harry said, confused.  
  
"That singing sorceress, oh, I forget her first name, but her last is Warbeck. She graduated from this school." Hermione took in the shocked looks on their faces. She loved it when she surprised people with all of the information she knew.  
  
"Cestelina Warbeck? Oh, I love her! She's so grand," Mary said dreamily. "Will she be here?"  
  
"Perhaps," Hermione replied faintly, looking as though she was still thinking about Viktor.  
  
"Laughlin Four!" Miss O'Faunian's shrill voice called out. "We must be going. Our rooms are ready!"  
  
"Laughlin Four?" Ron asked in disbelief. "What's the four for?"  
  
"It's my last name, and then my pod number," Mary shrugged. "That's what she identifies us all by." Mary grabbed her trunk and handbag and waved good-bye to the trio.  
  
"Catch you around, twin," Mary winked at Ginny. Ginny smiled.  
  
"Hogwarts students, follow me, please," Professor McGonagall strode briskly by them and motioned for all of the Hogwarts students to follow her. So, like a cattle herd, the students of Hogwarts School trudged behind their deputy headmistress into Singarang.  
  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~*~  
  
Two days later, the day of the first Dueling competition, Hermione, Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Mary were seated around one of the round tables at Singarang, eating breakfast.  
  
"Ready, Hermione?" Harry said between mouthfuls of bacon.  
  
"Y-yes," Hermione stuttered. She looked extremely nervous, and she wasn't eating anything. "I'm ready, I think."  
  
"Well, Herm," Ron said, swallowing. He whacked her on the shoulder. "If anything happens to you, I'm there to take your place."  
  
"My hero," Hermione replied flatly, eyeing her shoulder warily. Mary snorted into her cereal.  
  
"I'm sure you'll do fine, Hermione, you're the top student in Hogwarts, after all," Ginny said as she polished off the last of her sausages.  
  
"Yeah," Harry added. Hermione sighed and stared at her untouched plate of pancakes, waffles, bacon, sausage, hash browns, and grits. She reluctantly took a small bite out of one of her pancakes, and then placed down her fork and looked up at Harry.  
  
"Well, we'd best be off then," she announced, her voice a pitch higher than usual.  
  
"Mm, okay," Harry shoved one last spoonful of grits in his mouth and pushed back his chair a bit too fast. It fell over, almost knocking a tall, blonde girl over.  
  
"Sorry, so sorry," Harry said, but he couldn't help laughing.  
  
"Whatever, loser" the girl glared at Harry and walked off. The five of them stared at the girl's retreating back, and then back at Harry.  
  
"She's from America," he shrugged and joined them. They started to walk towards the courtyard, where McGonagall had told them all to go after breakfast.  
  
"How do you know?" Ginny inquired.  
  
"Her accent," Harry replied.  
  
"Yes, clearly an American," Hermione agreed. "I've never met an American before; should be interesting. My goal is to meet someone from every single country represented in this tournament before we leave."  
  
"Well, you've got Ireland covered," Mary smiled.  
  
"That I do," Hermione replied back.  
  
They had now reached the courtyard. Ginny and Mary went off to find the rest of their groups, leaving Harry, Hermione, and Ron standing in the middle of a bunch of bushes, feeling very foolish indeed.  
  
"Oh, there's that dude who almost killed me," the trio heard a voice say. They turned and saw the tall girl Harry had hit with the chair at breakfast.  
  
"Ah, he's a freak, no doubt about it" said the girl next to her. This one had long brown hair, and was a lot shorter than her friend. Both girls, Harry noticed, were extremely pretty.  
  
"He's Harry Potter!" Ron yelled, pointing furiously at Harry.  
  
"Harry Potter?" the tall girl repeated in disbelief. "Who the heck is that?"  
  
"You don't who he is?" Hermione asked them, shocked.  
  
"No, but I'm Chloe Rochelle, witch extraordinaire, have you heard of me?" the brown haired girl shot back sarcastically, rolling her eyes. The tall girl laughed.  
  
"You know, come to think of it, we haven't heard of you either," Ron straightened his back and stared right at Chloe.  
  
"How about me; I'm Eliza James?" the tall girl sighed impatiently.  
  
"So," Chloe shoved Ron out of the way and walked right up to Harry. She put her hands on her hips and looked him over, "Harry Potter. Who are you, anyway? Why do you think we'd know who you are?"  
  
"Everyone does," Ron retorted.  
  
"Not technically, Ron," Hermione put in. "If these two really are from America, then they probably wouldn't know who You-Know-Who is. I mean, he really only stayed in Europe; he didn't head out to North America to terrorize them there, too. And if You-Know-Who wasn't a problem for them, then, of course, what Harry did wouldn't matter to them either." Hermione smiled, satisfied with herself for, once again, knowing the answers.  
  
"I still don't know who exactly Harry is," Chloe began, grinning. "But as cute as he is, I'd like to." Harry blushed a deep crimson. Hermione furrowed her brow.  
  
"Harry Potter defeated the Dark Lord, whom terrorized us for many long years, when he was just a year old," Hermione punched out each word proudly, as if she had actually been there and helped Harry do it. "He's famous."  
  
"Not where we come from, I'm telling you," Eliza scoffed.  
  
"And where is that exactly?" Ron asked daintily.  
  
"Indiana," Chloe said, and at the same time, Eliza blurted out, "Michigan." They both looked at each other and laughed.  
  
"I'm from Indiana, Fort Wayne, actually," Chloe stated, "and Eliza's from Lansing, Michigan. Both are in America."  
  
"Hermione Granger; I'm a witch," Hermione said proudly. Chloe and Eliza exchanged bemused expressions.  
  
"Well, I'm sure you are," Eliza said sarcastically. Hermione blushed. She didn't really understand the insult, but she was smart enough to have a pretty good idea.  
  
"Well, well, well," said a cold voice from behind them. They all turned to see Snape standing there, sneering.  
  
"I see the famous trio has met the judges already," Snape smiled, and stood behind Chloe and Eliza, happily watching the looks of terror upon Harry, Hermione, and Ron's faces.  
  
"You two are the judges?" Ron cried out in horror.  
  
"Two of the six," Chloe replied coolly. "We won the tournament for three years in a row. Last year was our third straight win, so they asked us to be judges instead of compete next year. We agreed."  
  
"What year are you?" Harry asked, still shocked at the girls' identities.  
  
"Year?" Eliza said, puzzled.  
  
"They are in tenth grade, Mr. Potter, are the same age as you," Snape grinned.  
  
"Wait, so that means you won your first tournament in your second year!" Hermione gasped.  
  
"No, we were in seventh grade," Chloe retorted. She turned to Snape. "What is up with this year stuff?"  
  
"Our grades, Miss Rochelle," Snape told her. "Now I best be going, and leave Potter and his friends to their thoughts, hmm?"  
  
"Yeah, see you around, Sev," Chloe waved halfheartedly.  
  
"Bye," Eliza added.  
  
Snape smirked and walked off. The trio stared at the Chloe and Eliza in shock.  
  
"You two are judges?" Harry yelped.  
  
"And you're our age?" Hermione put in.  
  
"Hey, how do you know Snape, anyway?" Ron put his hands on his hips.  
  
"Well, to answer your question," Chloe began, nodding at Harry, "yes, we are judges. We will judge how well you perform. By the way, which one of you three is the alternate? I'm assuming you're all in the same group."  
  
"I am," Ron said flatly. Chloe and Eliza exchanged looks.  
  
"Not what we expected," Chloe said, as they looked over at Hermione, who just stared at the ground.  
  
"Yes," Eliza said, keeping her strong gaze at Hermione, "we are your age exactly."  
  
"And we know Mr. Snape," Chloe smiled at Ron, "because I am his niece."  
  
"Snape has a niece?" Ron repeated in disbelief.  
  
"Yes," Chloe replied. She seemed surprised that we would think that the idea of Snape having a niece was so absurd. "Well, he had a sister, didn't he? I'm his sister's daughter, which would make him my uncle. My mom, his sister, moves to the States after she married my dad, so that's why I live in America."  
  
"That's nice," Hermione said dryly.  
  
"Hey!" Chloe suddenly yelled, waving to someone behind Harry. "Hey, come over here!"  
  
Harry turned and saw Draco Malfoy heading toward them.  
  
"Chloe," Draco said, smiling, "how are you doing? It's been a long time."  
  
"Yeah, it has," Chloe hugged Draco. Harry, Ron, and Hermione watched in horror.  
  
Draco saw the looks on their faces and smirked.  
  
"Why are you hanging around with these losers, huh?" Draco stared at Harry in disgust.  
  
"Harry Potter," Eliza glanced at Harry, looking suspicious, "says he's famous."  
  
"Well, that he is," Draco drawled. "But he didn't do anything. He was only a baby when he defeated the Dark Lord. All Potter here did was sit there and coo." Eliza burst out laughing.  
  
"Whatever," Chloe shrugged.  
  
"Ladies, let's leave these idiots. We've got a lot of catching up to do." Draco linked his arms through Eliza's and Chloe's, and they walked off, chatting away.  
  
"He thinks he's such a ladies' man," Ron glared at Draco's retreating back.  
  
"He is. Did you see they way Eliza and Chloe looked at him?" Harry muttered.  
  
"Yeah, unfortunately," Ron murmured. He turned to Hermione. "So, Hermione, you've met some Americans. Not very friendly, are they?"  
  
Hermione's head was low, and her face was still beet red. "They're horrid," she uttered finally.  
  
Harry and Ron stifled their laughter.  
  
"Potter, Granger, Weasley, you're up!" came McGonagall's voice from across the courtyard.  
  
"Oh, no," Hermione murmured.  
  
"This is it," Harry moaned.  
  
"I'm ready to fill in, you two, don't worry," Ron added loudly. He was the only one of the three who looked confident.  
  
The trio walked slowly across the field of grass to McGonagall, who was waiting with their first competitors of the Dueling Contest.  
  
~*~*Ha ha, cliffhanger! Don't worry, all you Harry Potter diehards! Chapter Twelve will be out soon, I promise, a lot sooner than it took for this chapter to come out. (In fact, I've already started it!) If you are confused about anything in this chapter, and believe me, you have a good reason to be, e-mail me at sparklebabe11@msn.com or write it in the review! Thanks, all! Tchao! (BTW, please visit my HP website, entitled *Watson World*. Click on the address below to go to it. Thanks!)  
  
http://www.geocities.com/pinkangelhalo11/index.html 


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